Having It All
by AtlantisJoeFan
Summary: A continuation of the John/Cat story and set immediately after the end of my story 'Anything is Possible'. Why is it when things seem to be going just right, the worst always seems to happen?
1. Chapter 1

Rating is T – sometimes more adult themes and suggestion of torture  
Summary: Romance, adventure, emotional and physical whump with John Sheppard and now established O/C Cat  
Season: Season 5, post _Inquisition_  
Spoilers: Season 5 generally  
Disclaimer: Not mine. Though John Sheppard is in my guilty imagination

A/N:- This is a follow up to my story _Anything is Possible _and all the other John/Cat stories. It follows on directly from the end of this story, so you may need to read it to understand what's happening. I'm not sure how long this will be yet, but several chapters at least. Written to ease the pain of the end of the series.

The journey back to Atlantis had been an interesting one. Having said their rather embarrassed farewell to Balthus with a promise for further diplomatic talks, John and Cat had exited Danthos as quickly as possible, knowing full well that their friends and the High Counsellor probably had a good earful of what went on in the little room. Both knew that, when it came to their lovemaking, they were so often carried away in 'the moment' that they completely forgot about anything else. Not only that, John knew Woolsey would require an interview with Cat about the stolen puddle-jumper and he sincerely hoped that, for once, the man would ignore some of his precious protocols. The couple also had a lot to discuss yet about what the future held, and come to terms with becoming parents and there was the consideration too of Cat's age. In the euphoria of their reunion, they were so wrapped up in the bliss of being together again that they had pushed aside all these worries and, since neither was very good at facing problems head on, the next few hours promised to be a little awkward.

As John feared he could see Richard Woolsey on the balcony, through the front window of the puddle-jumper, as they arrived in the gate-room. He seriously contemplated making a run for it, but the moment the rear hatch open the call came in on his radio. 'Colonel Sheppard, please report to my office straight away and bring Doctor Sheppard with you if you please.' He turned to Cat and whispered in her ear that they needed to go to Woolsey immediately, kissing her cheek in reassurance and gently putting his arm around her shoulders. He no longer felt awkward showing his wife affection in public. Indeed, he had come an awful long way since he'd stopped being the solitary man and became happily one of a pair.

When she had so impetuously run away from Atlantis, Cat genuinely never expected to return. Looking back now, she couldn't believe how stupid she'd been, believing that he really didn't want her any more, and she had decided to put it down to pregnancy hormones. With a bit of luck, Woolsey would be so embarrassed at the discussion of 'women's' things, that he might just decide to dismiss the whole incident. The whole David/Andrew affair was also fresh in her mind and she desperately wanted to find some private time with John to finally talk things through, to tell him the whole truth and to explain why she hadn't told him long ago. Looking sideways at her husband, she saw the tension in his features, but felt comforted by the solid determination that was also there. He looked a little tired and still pale from the attempt on his life, and his beard had grown back quickly as it always did. Sometimes he would curse the speed with which his carefully shaved chin sprouted course dark hairs, but she loved it. It gave him even more of a rakish look than normal and simply made him more sexy than ever. Cat kicked herself for her naughty thoughts, putting them aside for later. For now, they needed to deal with whatever Woolsey had to throw at her.

Richard Woolsey was standing impatiently behind his desk. 'Doctor Sheppard, would you sit down please?' and he beckoned to one of the soft white chairs in the corner of his room. He paused for a moment before he continued, clearing his throat.' Now then, Doctor. There is the small matter of taking a puddle-jumper without filling in the correct paperwork. I am sure you know that I'm a stickler for these things, just as I am certain that you will not forget next time.' He smiled a small thin smile. 'I believe congratulations are in order, Doctor. I know nothing of how these things work, but I do remember from when my little Yorkie was expecting that she had terrible mood swings.' He looked affectionately at the picture of the dog, much missed and given to his wife as part of their divorce settlement. Damn, he missed that dog! Collecting his thoughts he went on,' so, we'll put his little oversight down to your 'em condition and call the matter closed, shall we?'

Cat looked at John in amazement, and he quickly grabbed her arm and guided her from the room. 'And, Colonel Sheppard, I'd like your full report on the diplomatic mission to Danthos as soon as possible please.'

'Yes, Mr Woolsey. And thank you.' John smiled. So, the man was human after all?

Somehow, the couple managed to reach their quarters with only one or two diversions, mostly kindly smiles and greetings. The door shut gratefully behind them and wordlessly John took her hand and guided her to sit on the bed. He sat opposite her and for a few minutes they looked at each other as though by looking away the other might disappear, not daring to let go the hand they had clutched since they'd left Woolsey's office.

'How pregnant are we?' he asked, a huge smile beginning to creep across his handsome features.

'About fourteen weeks, according to Jennifer. I had no idea; I didn't feel sick or anything and I just thought I'd put on a bit of weight.' The morning in the infirmary when, recovering from her near drowning, Jennifer Keller came to her with the result from the routine blood test was etched into her memory. Shock, then worry, then pleasure, then nervousness had all hit her at once. And, the irony of it, that she should discover she was having another child on the same day she had found and lost the first one. 'I'll need to have some tests in a couple of weeks, just to make sure everything is okay, but Jennifer says that more and more older women are having perfectly healthy babies.'

John pulled her closer to him, enveloping her in his arms, whispering words of love in her ear. Until the moment he had overheard Jennifer's comment in the gym, he hadn't seriously considered the notion of fatherhood. I mean, he'd romanticised about having a son to play football with or a daughter to protect, but no more, and he knew that Cat hadn't wanted it either. Now, though, he couldn't imagine how he could have felt unsure. This was just the most right thing, apart from making the decision to get up off his lazy romantic ass and love Cat, in the Universe. He ran his hand across her belly, imagining the growing life inside, then leant forward and kissed his wife tenderly. They leant back on the bed, his arm around her protectively and both promptly fell fast asleep, the first real sleep either had had for days.

Cat woke to an empty bed and the light from Atlantis' suns shining dimly through the window. She loved early morning in the city, when all but the night shift were still in bed and the city hummed peacefully to itself. For her and John, both with the strongest ATA gene, the city was a friend and had a personality unique to herself. During the day, she positively sang with pleasure at the people busying themselves around her corridors and rooms and Cat felt sorry for those who couldn't hear her. The gentle humming became a slightly tinkly singing at first light, as Atlantis looked forward to her friends awakening. This morning, the city's singing was not the only sound Cat woke up to, the John-shaped dent in the bed next to her showing that her husband had recently got up. Cat smiled at the tuneless alarm call that was coming from the direction of the shower. John had a good ear for music and was even quite proficient on his guitar, but his singing voice was dreadful. This morning he was wailing at top voice, and she was surprised that the city hadn't muffled her ears.

Well, there was only one way to stop the racket! She crept out of bed and opened the door to the shower room. John was leaning against the shower, his back to her, clearly enjoying the sensuous pleasure of the perfectly heated water, singing along to the city, oblivious to everything else. Cat took a moment to admire his back and rear, still slender and perfectly toned, the result of many years of running and, let's face it, a total inability to sit still. John was the most fidgety person she knew and she tried not to let it annoy her, in almost direct contrast to her quiet stillness. For once his manic hair was flat to his head, but only by the good graces of the water, and she knew that it would ping back the moment it started to dry. John had strong shoulders and a broad neck, which only improved with the years, the little 'v' shape in his hair at the nape directing her eyes back down his spine again as though designed for that very purpose. She wanted to make little pleased mewling noises every time she looked his naked body over because, as well as the deep and abiding love she felt for him, she also fancied him like mad and sometimes had to pinch herself to believe he really was hers.

She tiptoed into the shower, even though he probably wouldn't have heard her anyway above the racket he was making, and moved stealthily towards him. This wasn't the first time she'd tried to creep up on him and every time she'd failed, his infamous 'spidy' sense always seeming to 'feel' her presence. As she placed her, rather cold, hand on his rear she expected him to jump but he just relaxed into her body, stopped the 'singing' and pressed his back into her now even fuller than usual breasts, encouraging her to move her hands to his front and feel for herself how well he knew she was there. Then, he turned round and with a mischievous grin pulled her further under the shower, water pouring off both their bodies which glistened with the soft green light shining from the ceiling. John was about ten centimetres taller than her, and as he pulled her even closer, she raised herself up on her toes and nibbled his bottom lip, before he couldn't restrain himself any longer and the kiss deepened lustfully. Before she lost herself completely in him, Cat briefly reflected upon the power of her husband's full lips and her total inability to resist him, and then she gave herself entirely up to the passion of the moment, all other worries and concerns put aside, even managing to ignore the discomfort of making love in a shower until afterwards when she had to nurse a rather interesting tap shaped purple bruise on her left buttock.

Afterwards, he tenderly dried her down and wrapped her up with him in the large pink towel, before bundling her back towards the bed. One conversation had been had, and it was now important to get the other out of the way, so that they could move on. With as reassuring a smile as he could muster, he asked the question he didn't really want to hear the answer to, thinking that a moment of such togetherness and warm security was probably the best time to face the truth.

'Tell me about Andrew? What happened to make you give him up for adoption? Who _was_ the father?' He waited patiently for Cat to begin.

With a slightly quivering voice, she began. 'I was sixteen and rather obsessed with my History teacher at school. Looking back, he was probably only in his early twenties, but he seemed an awful lot older to me then. He should have known better, and he certainly paid for his indiscretion, but I won't pretend that I didn't throw myself at him, or that he was the dastardly villain who attacked an innocent young girl. He did take advantage of my naivety, though, and he was the first man I slept with, and the last for quite a while. It only took two times for me to fall pregnant and then, of course, the shit really hit the fan.' She paused briefly, knowing that she would need now to reveal some deeply buried secrets. 'My father was, well he was a brutal man, violent and bad-tempered and I was an only child, and a daughter at that, not the son he'd always wanted. He used to hit me quite often and I became used to it after a while,' a sideways glance showed her that John was scowling angrily at the thought of anyone hurting her and he pulled her tighter towards him as though able to protect her from injuries suffered so long ago,' but I've never seen him so purple with rage as when I told him and my mother I was pregnant. I'd left it to as late as possible, frightened of the consequences, and it was too late to have an abortion. I was given a stark choice. Get out then and there or give the baby up for adoption. Even so afraid of my father, the thought of being on the streets and pregnant was unbearable and I stayed. When David, no Andrew, was born he was taken out of my arms straight away and I never saw him until the day he stepped onto Atlantis, although I thought of him often, especially in the early years. ' Cat paused in an attempt to regain some semblance of self control, not daring to look at John again in case it set her off down an emotional avenue that she had long since refused to enter and she needed to tell him everything while she had the courage. 'In my twenties, I finally left home but only to marry a man who my father wanted me to marry. It was a 'beneficial business deal' with part of the unofficial marriage settlement a partnership in a large firm for him and his snobbery was massaged by his new found ability to boast about his daughter's husband, nearly a member of the English landed gentry. Malcolm was yet another bastard in my life. He only wanted me for the children he thought I'd give him and really wasn't very interested in women at all. Eventually, he too became violent , especially when drunk, realising fairly quickly that I wasn't the 'little-wife' type and finally he put me in hospital with several broken ribs and a punctured lung. The divorce settlement was generous enough for me to leave for America and you know the rest. I didn't tell you because, well because I was ashamed. Ashamed of what I did, ashamed of my father, ashamed of my failures, guilty about it all and then all the baby pressure started to build and I just didn't know if I could go through all that again. But now,' and she allowed herself finally a glance up at him, surprised to see so much emotion in his face, 'I can't imagine why I ever didn't want this. It just seems so right.' She stopped, suddenly very tired, and leant against his shoulder, shaking with the effort of letting out so many long buried secrets.

For a moment, John was silent, and then she felt him take a deep breath. 'Since this is a time for confessions, I suppose I should make a few....I'm not very good at this kind of thing. My father was a difficult man too and a business man, so we have something in common there. He wanted me to run the family business, but I was always more interested in fast cars and girls.' She punched him gently for that. 'Looking back, I must have been a very difficult teenager, stubborn and reckless, and he had to rescue me from trouble several times, usually to do with driving too fast or getting into fights. When I told him I'd joined the air force, it was the last straw for him and he threw me out of the family home. It took two years for me to buck up the courage to apologise and for a short time he grudgingly accepted me back. Then he introduced me to Nancy, my ex-wife, and it was clear that he thought she would 'tame' me and help bring me back into the fold, but the marriage never worked. I had to leave at a moment's notice on missions I could tell her nothing about and I don't think I cared enough about her to even try to make it work. In retrospect, I was in the wrong. I think she cared for me much more than I did for her and I treated her very badly. The divorce was the beginning of the end for my father, and then when the whole Afghanistan thing happened, he called me to the house and we had a terrible row which ended with things being said on both sides that should never have been voiced, and a full-scale fist fight. He was a strong man, my father, and he managed to floor me. I remember the look in his eyes as he registered what he'd done then I got up, turned my back and left for good. My life was a mess and I was dispatched to the Antarctic. And, yes, you know the rest from there, or most of it anyway.' John stopped, amazed at revealing so much about himself.

They sat, curled together for comfort, on the bed in silence, no more needing to be said. Other couples might have tried to break the silence with inconsequential utterings of sympathy, but these two had so much in common that they knew it wasn't needed, just as they knew they would never need to talk of these things again. They would look forward, not back, whatever life might bring for them, but in the knowledge that nothing was hidden and they knew each other better than any other person ever would. Eventually, Cat felt John stir and he gently leant forward and kissed her.

'I have to go, you know. Woolsey's expecting a report from me and there must be a ton of crap to wade through. I've not really been doing my job for several weeks. Lorne's done good, but I do need to get back.' He swung his legs over the side of the bed, unwrapping himself from the large towel they'd snuggled into, and walked across the room towards the cupboard, giving her yet another opportunity to stare at his body and his pert bottom. She could swear that he did it deliberately, the slightly exaggerated sway of his hips as he walked being a give-away, and she had the feeling, as she always did, that contrary to public opinion he was not a confident man in his obvious good looks and loved to have the woman he loved perusing him with such clear admiration.

Once he had left, she finally stirred herself, thinking that work was probably the best idea right now. She needed to find a sense of normality after everything that had happened and the Archives Library was the best place to do that. She had no doubt that, like John, a pile of work awaited her, and she was right. As ever, she became totally engrossed in what she was doing and the buzz of her radio made her jump.

'Doctor Sheppard. It's Richard Woolsey here. Colonel Sheppard wanted to me to let you know that he's had to go off-world urgently and apologise that he couldn't get to tell you in person. There's a small emergency on a Genii controlled planet and SGA1's help was requested. I have no ETA for him, but I'll keep you informed. Oh, and he, ah, told me to tell you not to worry and that he'll always come back to you.' The poor man was clearly quite embarrassed and Cat thanked him politely and without further questioning: she probably wouldn't get any answers anyway and would have to sit and wait, as always, reflecting upon the irony of how 'normal' this was.

***

Atlantis' premier team walked through the gate onto a desert planet, the dry heat hitting them in waves as the gate shut down behind them. They were expecting a greeting party, but no-one was in sight. Rodney glanced at his life-signs detector and shook his head at John's unasked question, while Ronon and Teyla investigated the immediate vicinity. Without warning, the ground beneath their feet began to tremble, then shake, and John just about managed to get out the words 'earthquake' and 'dial the damn gate' before the earth gave out underneath his feet and he was swallowed up by the planet before his team could reach him, all that was left the disturbed surface and an area of slightly looser soil. Of John, there was not a sign.

_TBC_

_Please R& R. You know how much I need it! All positive criticism welcomed._


	2. Chapter 2

_Ok, here we go. Sorry for the small delay but work and real life get in the way sometimes! Thanks to all my lovely reviewers who continue to encourage me._

The silence was disturbed only by the gentle spatter of tiny stones shifting back to their homes accompanied by an eerie creaking that appeared to rise up from the ground itself and an 'Oh, my God' from Rodney. The team were frozen in shock, in the nanosecond before the inevitable burst of activity which would surely follow. Teyla was the first.

'John! 'She shouted in panic. 'I cannot see him. Did anyone see where he disappeared? Rodney?'

Rodney dared a glance at the life-signs detector and swallowed the lump that appeared in his throat. It had all happened so suddenly. One minute his friend and team-leader had been snarking away as usual, the next he was gone and, this time, it appeared that there was no likely miracle rescue from certain death. He hesitated, taking hold of the emotion that threatened to silence even him. 'He's gone. There's no life-sign at all. None.'

Ronon was in Rodney's face straight away. 'You mean you can't detect him? Find a way, Mckay. He has to be here somewhere and we don't have much time.'

'You don't understand.' Rodney stood tall against Ronon's anger, knowing that it was born of fear and worry for John. 'There _is _no life-sign.' He didn't want to say the word, but Ronon's persistence forced him to spit it out. 'He's dead, Ronon. Sometimes there's just nothing we can do.' Ronon had started to desperately dig into the sandy topsoil with his bare hands, looking for any sign of John, but the sand just fell back uselessly into the holes he dug. Rodney shouted, tears threatening to well up as he did, the emotion now clearly showing in his voice. 'Ronon! It's too late. There is no life-sign to find. Ronon! Stop! You'll bring the whole lot down and we'll go with it.'

The tall Satedan stood up stiffly and reluctantly staggered towards the gate, followed by a weeping Teyla and a silent Rodney. They just couldn't believe it. As they moved, the ground beneath them shook again, holes opening up in the ground around them and, as one, they sped up, Rodney dialled the gate and sent through his IDC, and then they were back in the temperate warmth of the Atlantis gate-room, shocked and silent.

Richard Woolsey watched the sad trio from the balcony. 'What happened? Where's Colonel Sheppard?'

Ronon strode from the gate-room without even a glance at Woolsey and it was left to Rodney to give the bad news. 'He's dead, Mr Woolsey. There was an earthquake almost the moment we went through the gate. The ground just swallowed him up. Within seconds his life-sign was extinguished. We couldn't even stay to find his body because another tremor caused the ground to become unstable around us.' Rodney paused, momentarily unable to continue, then took a deep breath as if answering the unspoken question from all the shocked faces around him. 'There was just nothing we could do.' With one last miserable look at Atlantis' commander, he followed Ronon from the gate-room, needing to find Katie and hold his daughter in his arms; let out the deep grief that he was feeling elsewhere than in public.

Teyla had stood in silence, quietly weeping, the only one able to let out what they were all feeling. 'I need to go to Cat. She must not hear from anywhere else,' and bravely walked out to find her friend, not sure how she would break the devastating news, leaving a stunned control room, every person in deep shock. Colonel John Sheppard was greatly loved and respected by every member of the Atlantis community and all felt the loss in ways personal to each.

Cat was still at her desk, cataloguing a strange artefact similar to an Incan statue, when she heard soft footsteps behind her. Immediately she turned, and saw in Teyla's face what she hoped never to see, in a moment grasping the news that was coming her way. Disbelieving, she allowed herself one word, 'How?' for the moment dry eyed and logical, needing but not wishing to hear the dreaded words.

And Teyla told her everything that had happened. Teyla wasn't sure what reaction she expected: numb disbelief maybe, desperate sorrow, crying, resignation, a total collapse. What she did get was a look of horror at first and then a strange calm seemed to spread across Cat's features, leading Teyla to press her point again, placing her hands on her friend's shoulders. 'Do you understand, Cat. John is gone. His life-sign was extinguished. We cannot even return to find his body, at least not yet. The planet is too unstable.' She fought hard to keep hold of the great sadness she felt at the loss of one of her closest friends, someone who she loved more than she had ever admitted.

'No, _you_ don't understand, Teyla. John isn't dead. He promised to come back to me, to us,' and she pressed her hand on her belly, 'and he will come back. I know it.' For Cat it was that simple. Like John's favourite film, 'The Princess Bride', she felt the power of 'true love' and believed that he would return home. She couldn't say how or why she felt so sure. It was as though the unborn child inside her was shouting out the impossible: he was alive. She simply packed away her work and returned to their quarters, needing to be away from all the doubters and the sympathetic looks.

Over the next day, several friends attempted to talk to her, to convince her of what they knew to be true. Richard Woolsey was keen to hold a memorial service as soon as possible. The smooth running of the city needed a swift closure to the grief that seemed to ooze from every pore of it and life needed to continue. He needed to appoint a new military commander and maintain the strong position so hard fought for, not allowing the Genii any foothold. There were still factions vying for Laden Radeen's position and many were keen to cut all ties with the old enemy 'Atlantis' especially those who had long memories of the events six years ago when so many Genii lost their lives in the failed attempt on the city. Over the last six or seven years, John Sheppard had become the figure head representing the power and dignity of the Atlantis expedition and was respected and mostly trusted by the majority of civilisations in the galaxy. Woolsey reflected sadly upon the loss of such a man both personally, as he now counted him among his very small circle of friends, and as a military commander of great strength, intelligence and integrity whose early 'black mark' had been well and truly wiped out since he came to the Pegasus Galaxy. Indeed, he had recently recommended a long-overdue promotion to a full-blood colonel, an honour which was now likely to be posthumous. It seemed impossible to imagine how they could hold a service without Cat, though, and she was in complete denial about his death. He finally decided to contact Stargate Command, hoping that General O'Neill might be able to talk some sense into her. After all, he had played a small part in the pair hooking up in the first place and had always been a strong supporter of John Sheppard, recognising his talents where others could not, and the General was on his way, although it would be several weeks before he arrived on The Apollo.

Cat spent the days that followed trying to go about her normal day: working, sleeping, eating in the refectory. That was the most difficult to bear, watching the distraught figure of Chief Maria Johnson, John's greatest fan, who had cried enough, by the looks of her puffy face, for the two of them. It was not even possible to go to the main bar without constant reminders of John's supposed fate. Harry Burt had taken the 'John Sheppard' cocktail off the list, replacing it with a rather sombre looking beverage based on coffee liqueur and Bourbon whisky which he simply called 'Lost Hero'. In the end, she took to rising early, running through the empty corridors of the city and eating a quiet breakfast in her room. Teyla brought lunch to the Archive Room and Amelia and Katie would visit her in the evening, although by then Cat was ready for bed and certainly didn't want conversation. And this is how life continued in the city of Atlantis, treading water in a strange limbo, uncertain of the future and what it might bring.

***

The last thing John remembered was the ground falling away beneath him and a distant shout from Rodney and then he was here, in a cold cell, God knows where. His head felt like someone had bored a screwdriver into it and the tingling in his limbs was definitely the all too familiar sensation of being hit with a stunner. His chest felt like he's swallowed sand-paper which wasn't surprising given the sand he must have swallowed as he'd disappeared under the surface of the desert. How he had escaped from that one he couldn't possibly imagine, but being locked up in here was so not a good sign. Gingerly, he tested each limb. 'Well, at least nothing's broken,' he concluded, trying to find solace in any grasped positive as was his long standing habit.

Painfully he tried to stand, but his legs gave way beneath him and he decided that discretion should be the better part of valour right now. He'd wait and see who was holding him and why. It didn't take long. The iron door which opened into the ante-room the other side of the bars was shoved with a loud clang and a grizzled soldier in a very familiar uniform entered, followed by two younger men.

'Well, that answers one question, anyway,' he thought. Though why the Genii should want to take him prisoner in so dramatic a way he couldn't imagine.

The older man held what looked suspiciously like a cattle-prod, while the two younger aimed their weapons at him. With a small surge of pride, John realised that they were nervous of him, though he quickly reminded himself that 'pride comes before a fall'. 'Come with us,' demanded the man.

'Where do you want me to come?' He earned himself a nasty jolt with the cattle prod and the two younger men grasped his arms so tightly that he was certain they'd left their fingerprints etched into his skin. Half-conscious, he was dragged along the corridor towards another large, rusty metal door which opened heavily into a dingy, dark room. In the middle was a solid-looking chair and John was shoved unceremoniously into it, iron straps clasped tightly around his wrists and a metal hoop fastened so firmly around his chest that he had to gasp for breath. Through his haze he half-registered a tall form loom before him.

'Colonel Sheppard,' a deep, but unmistakably female voice whispered into his ear, 'It's an honour to finally meet you.' The voice paused and the shadow moved away. John's vision began to clear and he saw the source of the voice. The woman must have been over 6ft tall, with short cropped brown hair and, though slender of outline, it was clear that there was great strength in her arms and shoulders. 'You are probably wondering what you are doing here, although I have no doubt that you recognise the uniforms of our soldiers. I have waited a long time for this moment.' The voice was soft and gravelly, with an ominous and threatening note lurking just beneath the surface. He had been here before and had no doubt what was coming, although he didn't want to imagine the details. Last time he sat in a chair in a room such as this, Kolya had allowed Todd to feed off him, the memory of the pain still vivid and clear to this day.

'What do you want?' The words sounded distant through the woolly veil that was trying to smother his head. 'Can't I even know your name?' John tried to smile confidently although he wasn't entirely sure if his lips were obeying his command.

'Well, John. I can call you 'John' can't I? You see, I work for the new leadership of The Genii. Commander Radeen has been deposed and we are now in control. It is fascinating to watch all those little planets rushing to be in our good graces, running away from the tyranny of Atlantis. So, you see, your precious alliance is no longer in existence and The Genii can finally assume their rightful position in the galaxy.' The woman pushed her face close to his. 'Oh, and you can call me Charel. You and I are going to get to know each other very well.'

For a moment, he thought she was about to kiss him and he pulled back in disgust. He only just had time to register her almost imperceptible nod before he felt the band tighten around his chest, a loud crack and a stabbing pain signifying yet another broken rib in a long line of broken ribs. Just as he was about to pass out, the band loosened and he desperately tried to grasp some oxygen from the stale air. Pain sparked his forehead as his body tried to compensate for the lack of air and the blood returned with a rush.

'That is just a little taster, my sweet.' Charel's voice had a cloying and sinister edge with told of worse pain to come. 'You see, you are quite a prize. You want to know why you're here? We must have time to cement our alliances and we needed you out of the way. You look surprised? You shouldn't be. With her military commander out of the way, believed dead, Atlantis will take time to recover some semblance of order again and we will take advantage of that temporary blind spot to 'win over' the last few planets that will give us the power and strength we require to become the largest military force in the galaxy.'

'I...don't...understand.' John forced out the words. 'Why would having me dead make any difference?'

'You underestimate yourself, John. Many Genii might hate you and what you represent, but we all recognise your worth and the importance you have for Atlantis.' She paused menacingly. 'Oh, and if we can tempt you to give us a little information, that's a nice bonus, especially as by now your friends and colleagues think you are dead, so don't be expecting any rescue soon. You must understand, my dear John, that my superiors and I are more than happy just to see you suffer. Any intelligence would be nice, but we don't need it. There is no getting out of this one.'

Charel snapped her fingers towards the older soldier and John heard a clanking sound behind him and the unmistakeable buzz of a generator, followed by a shock of cold. Looking up to the ceiling, he saw a ancient shower like mechanism which was pouring orange, rusty and metallic tasting water over his skin. Strong hands tore his shirt and before he could get out a cheeky 'Eh, leave the shirt alone' electricity poured through the skeleton of the chair, causing him to convulse violently, stiffening against his tight iron bounds, stopping his breath at every pulse. His skin felt on fire, he was vaguely aware of throwing up and an unasked question attempted to pass his lips and failed, before blessed darkness overcame him and he passed out. 'How did I get here?'

John had no idea how long he had been unconscious, but the stiffness in his back from lying prone on the hard floor told him it must have been several hours. Cautiously, he gritted his teeth, the gums tingling numbly with the after effects of the electric shock and he could taste blood in his mouth, probably from a bitten tongue, if past experience were anything to go by. He tried to sit up but the sharp pain that banded his chest reminded him of his other injury and he pushed himself carefully to a half-slumped sitting position against the wall of his cell. It was time to take in his surroundings and consider his position.

'Well, John, you could be really screwed this time,' he muttered to himself, a habit he was in when in trouble. How he had got here he's no idea. He could be anywhere in the galaxy if the Genii had managed to get him to a gate, or he could still be on that hellish desert planet. He also had no doubt that Charel meant what she had said about his friends believing he was dead. 'So, I guess I'm on my own with this one.' The thought caused his stomach to take a sick-inducing lurch. Cat would think he was dead and she'd be going through hell, thinking that their child would be born fatherless. More than his own suffering, more than the pain he felt and would feel, the idea of her grieving was almost more than he could bear and the idea of not seeing her again or ever holding his child in his arms struck him with such a force that it obliterated any physical discomfort he was feeling. He leant his head back on the cold wall and allowed himself to shed a tear for what he had lost and what he would never have, before he mentally shook himself. 'Buck up, John. There's always a way out. They'll come. Somehow, they'll come.'

The days, or at least he thought they were days, that followed were surprisingly uneventful, including the aggravating non-event of a serious lack of food. A grisly, orange water and the once-a-day treat of some grey, mucus textured gruel was all he had to sustain him, pushed through a grate at the bottom of the door. Occasionally, he's hear footsteps coming in his direction, expecting the next phase of his so-called interrogation, but he was left in almost total isolation and allowed his thoughts to drift to more pleasant places, comforting himself with memories of Cat: their days and their amazing nights together. It was sometime into what he thought must have been his third day, just after he had drifted into a fitful reverie, remembering a very special night on the East Pier and his wife, then about to be fiancée, serving him in a maid's uniform, that he woke with a start. He must be going mad, but he was as certain as he had been of anything that he'd heard a familiar voice speak to him. It was so real that he had looked around eagerly anticipating its owner to be in the room with him but the damp and dismal wall had just stared back at him.

'John, my darling. If you can hear me, know that I believe you are still alive. I will not give up until I've found you. Please hang on, wherever you are. You have a wife and child to come home to and you _will_ come home. I love you.'

***

Back on Atlantis, Cat sat bolt upright too. She had felt him, she was sure of it. She wasn't a mystical person but she just knew. John was alive.

TBC

_I felt a little mystical when I was writing this, but consider the possible reasons for the telepathic link...? Please R & R. You know it makes me happy!_


	3. Chapter 3

_Thank you to all my lovely reviewers who, as always, encourage me to persevere._

Cat was on a mission and God help anyone who got in her way. The ''dream' last night was what had finally decided her and she was on her way to see the one person who could empathise and understand, determined that in some way shape or form a rescue mission had to be mounted for John. She had felt him in such a close and physical way. All she'd been doing was trying to send out positive thoughts, in the way you do when all else seems hopeless, and then there it was: his thoughts and feelings entered her; she understood his surprise; she felt his pain; she knew he needed help. It felt momentarily like he had reached out and touched her, his long fingers stroking her cheek, but when she opened her eyes the room was desolate and empty. Worse was the horrible ache in her chest as though she was being squeezed by a giant vice and the tingling in her arms and legs. She was a logical and pragmatic person, not easily drawn in by stories of ghostly contact or the like and she had no idea how she was going to communicate her absolute certainty of John's survival and the urgency of the need to find him, but she would find a way.

Teyla was in the gym sparring with a young marine and Cat hesitated in the doorway, waiting for a moment to interrupt. It didn't take long. Teyla was probably the toughest fighter in Atlantis and could even floor Ronon; the poor soldier didn't stand a chance. He picked himself up off the floor, shook out his bruised back with a wince and proudly stumbled from the room, a sideways glance at Cat the only clue to his embarrassment. Teyla turned away and grabbed the towel from the bench at the side of the gym, wrapping it around her shoulders.

'How are you, Cat?' she asked, surprised to see her friend out of her room. Since John's disappearance, Cat had hardly left it, sitting in silent contemplation, serenely waiting for something, though Teyla couldn't imagine what.

Cat began uncertainly. 'Teyla. I remember you once telling me about a dream you had when your people went missing. The one where you saw Kanaan? Well, I know that it kind off turned out not to be him, but I wondered if you believed in telepathy: that people we care about can communicate to us if they're in trouble? Because, you know, In 'Jane Eyre' that's exactly what Mr Rochester did when his house was burning down and...' She stopped and silently told herself to get to the point. Teyla was looking questioningly at her. 'I...I dreamt of John last night. At least, it didn't really feel like a dream. It felt like he was in the room with me. I was just thinking about him and the feeling kind of descended on me. It was so real. It felt real. Teyla, I know he's alive, I've known it since the day he disappeared, but he is in terrible danger. He's out there somewhere, but he's in pain. We have to find him before it's too late.' Exhausted, Cat sat down on the bench, head between her hands and began to cry, not for his loss but for missing him and fear for him.

Teyla sat next to her and put her arm around her shoulders. 'If you really do believe this, Cat, then we have to try to find him. John once trusted me, even though I know he did not believe in visions, and I trust you. We cannot ask Mr Woolsey to help, though. There will need to be another way.' At that she stood up. 'Come on. We need to find Rodney and Ronon.' Silently, Cat followed her from the room, a feeling of relief sweeping over her. At last, they would be doing something.

***

Finally, the door opened and John had some company, although in truth he would have preferred someone else. Right now, even Todd would have been better than the three men who entered. The grizzled Genii and his two lackeys grabbed his left arm roughly and pulled him upright, but his legs gave way beneath him; they had to drag him down the corridor and he was dumped unceremoniously back in the middle of the same dank, dark room as before. Charel walked from the shadows.

'You do not look so good, John,' she growled in that menacingly deep voice. 'How did it feel being so alone, not knowing when we would next meet? I expect you had had a lot to think about. Some loved ones you've left behind, huh? Someone you may never see again? Things left unsaid and undone? Maybe, you have even considered giving me some information? It would be much easier for you if you did. I can promise you a quick death if you co-operate.'

'Well, thanks for the offer but I think I'll pass. Give me a shower and a shave and I'll scrub up just fine,' he quipped back, then grimaced as he was picked up and his arms were pulled above his head and attached to a chain hanging from an iron ring on the ceiling. 'So, what entertainment is there tonight? Personally, I like 'The Princess Bride'. Great film. You should see it.' The chain tightened above him and he felt his shoulders begin to strain as the woman walked towards him.

'Now then, John. Where shall we start? How about you tell me the code for the Atlantis gate?

***

Cat let Teyla tell Rodney and Ronon. Somehow it sounded truer and more sensible coming from her and she was pleasantly surprised by their reaction. Ronon was all for immediately heading off base and searching every possible planet, starting with known Genii strongholds. Fortunately, Rodney was a little more cautious and between them they began to form a plan, both men prepared to grasp at as many straws as possible, no matter how short, if it would result in the return of their friend. Rodney Mckay had grieved more that he thought possible. The worst times had been late at night when John would often arrive at his lab, either with the latest version of his remote-controlled car or some new computer game to play. Rodney and John were terrible sleepers and the years in Atlantis had not exactly made it any better, with crisis after crisis disrupting already imperfect sleep patterns, so they would often spend the early hours of the morning together in good-natured snarking and competition. Long since, Rodney had disposed of any notions of John as the thick-headed military man; in fact, that process had started almost from their first step into the city. Far from it, his friend was 'almost' equal to him in intellect and he was the only person with whom he could have that unique combination of childish banter and clever conversation. The idea that he might still be alive gave him a spark of hope that he thought had been forever extinguished and he had to admit that another miracle return from the dead would be entirely characteristic of John Sheppard.

'Okay. So what do we do? Woolsey is not likely to give us a green light for a rescue mission that is based on a 'vision' and we don't really know where to start looking.'

Cat thought for a moment. 'We could take a jumper. I mean, it's not all that long ago that I took one right from under the noses of the military.'

'Yes, we could,' replied Rodney cautiously, 'But, where will we start looking? And how will we find him, if he's still alive.' He looked sideways at Cat who scowled at him and he quickly corrected himself. 'I mean, of course he's alive. If you believe it, we believe it. Right?' McKay glanced at Ronon.

The big Satedan was leaning against the wall, in thoughtful silence. 'We take a jumper and return to the desert planet.' One of Ronon's great strengths was his ability to cut to the chase. He turned to Cat. 'What do you think?'

Cat looked at her friends. She was amazed at the speed they'd agreed to help her and was touched and moved by it. 'I think that's a good idea. I may be able to sense something when I'm there, although I 'm still not sure how this whole connection thing works. Most of the time, it's just a feeling that he's out there somewhere.' Cat put her hand on her belly. What she hadn't told them was the strangest sensation that came from inside her every-time she thought she could sense John and she was beginning to think that the link was something to do with the child she carried. After all, both she and John had very strong ATA genes and she hadn't really considered until now what that might mean for their baby. And, it wasn't as though she could call up the 'link': it just kind of happened.

Teyla looked uncomfortably at her friend. 'You cannot come, Cat. You need to think about the baby. And, if we find John, he will not be happy that we put you in so much danger.'

The determined repost gave her friends no doubt that she would be coming with them and when Cat was this determined very few were brave enough to stand in her way. Normally a gentle soul she carried a powerful stubbornness which was not to be denied. 'There is no way you're leaving me behind. I'm coming with you. You need me. If I can sense him, then it might be the only way to find him.' Just as she finished speaking a sharp and agonising pain seared across her back and she collapsed to the floor to the horror of her friends, tears springing from the suddenness of it. 'It's John. We need to find him quickly.'

***

_He was in his bed back in Atlantis, curled up next to Cat, the warmth of her body soothing his aches and pains. Her perfume aroused him as he nuzzled into her neck: that trade-mark aroma of vanilla and raspberries that filled the room whenever she was around. He felt happy and content, knowing that this was where he belonged; their baby growing inside her, her stomach gently swelling under his hand as he stroked it. She turned to him and kissed him gently on the lips. 'It's alright, my darling. We're coming for you. Hold on. I love you.' John gasped as the vision begin to fade, morphing into the sharp features of a strange, tall woman with cropped hair and a mean mouth and he shouted Cat's name as he felt a burning pain in his back. Cat's face faded before him and he jerked awake. In front of him the woman was holding a nasty looking whip with metal fragments embedded in it and the source of his pain became all too clear._

'Well, John. You can certainly take a lot, but then I knew that already. Aucustus Kolya told me about your pain threshold several years ago. You must know. I don't care that you tell me nothing. I take great pleasure in watching you suffer. You will stay in this room for as long as I wish.' As she spoke, she stroked his left cheek with her hand, then as suddenly slapped him hard, causing his head to flip sideways, trapping the muscles in the side of his neck. 'I think I will leave you now to your thoughts, John. Oh, and by the way, who is this 'Cat' person you call out for? Someone close to you? Something to do with this, maybe?' She pulled the leather thong from around his neck and the Athosian ring clattered to the floor. 'Someone you'll never see again?' With that, she strode from the room, leaving him alone, arms straining from the pain of being pulled above his head, back bleeding from the hard whip that she had repeatedly struck him with, with such apparent glee.

He tried to shift position in order to ease the agony running across his shoulders, but nothing seemed to help. In the end, he decided to stay in one place, hoping for some kind of blessed numbness to take over. He could feel his body weakening from the physical assaults, his legs barely able to hold him up, and he knew that he was in danger of giving up mentally as well. If his friends really thought he was dead, then there was no way out of this one. He could feel the thought draining him of his usual fight and determination, sucking any little strength that he had remaining like a leech. Then, across the room, he saw the shiny metal of his ring, glinting on the dark surface of the floor. That at least would keep him going. Would keep him from giving up. The ring became a symbol of hope as he hung there, drifting in and out of consciousness. That and the message from Cat. Real or imagined, he didn't care. He would cling onto it, to the end if necessary. She was coming. She wouldn't give up.

***

The silent quartet crept through the darkened corridors of Atlantis, the lights dimmed as ever to signify night's calm and rest. When they had first entered the city, the lights had come on by themselves as though recognising kind and sympathetic beings that could bring the city back her life-energy and Atlantis repaid the tenderness of her occupants, easing their passage into sleep by gradually dimming the lights each evening and conversely raising them slowly every morning.

The plan was simple, but could have far-reaching consequences. All four knew that they might never be able to return to the city again, but all were willing to sacrifice themselves on the off-chance that John was still alive. As Cat had predicted, only two marines stood guard at the entrance to the puddle-jumpers and they were easily dealt with by Ronon and Teyla. They chose Jumper 1, John's favourite and the first he flew: it seemed apt in the circumstances. Once the gate address had been dialled, there would be nothing anyone could do about stopping them and Rodney had rigged up a scrambler which would veil where they had gone, at least until Zelenka could figure out how to decode it. They had all agreed that the desert planet was the first place to search, and that a jumper was their best bet given the unstable nature of the environment there.

The last they saw of Atlantis was the rather surprised face of Chuck the technician, and the rather less surprised one of Amelia Banks who Ronon had confided the plan to that night. She raised a surreptitious hand in farewell with an encouraging smile at Ronon, and then they were gone.

They arrived through the gate in the middle of a violent sandstorm, the little jumper immediately being tossed and thrown about by the swirling winds.

'It's just as well we didn't come by foot,' moaned Rodney as he tried to steady the ship. 'We'd have been pulp by now. Okay, anyone any ideas about what we do next? I will try to re-calibrate the sensors. It may be that we missed something last time. It wouldn't be the first time that The Genii have been able to block us, after all. Maybe we missed something.' Rodney spoke with forced confidence, but his mouth was set it a grimace that could only be translated as doubt, or to the more cynical, scepticism.

They all looked at Cat. Much of the rest of 'the plan' was to play it by ear, or in this case by the sixth sense that she seemed to have developed, but since she had never been able to deliberately 'dial-up' the connection, as McKay had so sensitively put it, she really didn't know what else to do other than wait. 'Teyla. When you connect with the Wraith, how do you do it? Maybe I can try the same technique.'

Teyla shrugged her shoulders, 'Well, I suppose we could try. We have nothing to lose, after all. I close my eyes and concentrate on my breathing, trying to obliterate every other thought other than 'Wraith'. It takes a great deal of concentration and effort and it does not always work. Shall we try?'

Cat nodded. She sat upright on her chair and closed her eyes. Truthfully, it wasn't very difficult closing her eyes and thinking of nothing but John, since she did it much of the time anyway, but trying to get rid of her fears for him, coupled with her awareness of those around her, made the whole process much harder. She could hear the wind howling outside the hovering jumper like some ancient valkyrie stalking them and could feel the sway as the little ship fought against the onslaught. For a long time she felt nothing but the tension and expectation of those around her, then suddenly the world outside her body seemed to disappear and she was in a strange, floaty place with another voice whispering something in her head which she couldn't quite grasp. Gradually, the voice became clearer although it wasn't forming words but as it cleared it seemed to become part of her, one with her, strengthening her. And then she was in another place, standing in the middle of a vast emptiness, but not alone. Together, they searched for John, ranging far and wide, scouring the galaxy, flying among the stars and swimming in the oceans. And then, she saw a figure in the distance, a figure seemingly held up by some invisible force, it's arms stretched above it. As they closed, she recognised the spiky dark hair and the black BDU trousers and swooping towards him she saw John. He was hanging from an iron hoop by a nasty looking rusty chain, an expression of both pain and determination on his face, staring resolutely at a single spot on the floor as if his life depended on it. She could see livid bruises on his face and his shirt was ripped in shreds from his body, showing the bloody wheals of the lash. His face was pale and there were deep shadows under his eyes, but he was still her John. Still fighting. She came in as close as she could and desperately tried to make him look towards her, but his eyes would not stray from the gleaming gold ring on the floor.

'John, John, can you hear me, my darling? It's Cat. We're looking for you. Rodney, Ronan and Teyla are with me and we're on the planet where you disappeared. Please, John? Please, hear me? I'm right with you. If you concentrate on me perhaps I can sense where you are? John! John!' She reached forward and touched his face, cupping his chin in her hands and trying to raise his eyes to meet hers. For a moment, she thought it was no use and then he started from his almost manic stare at the floor, looking directly into her eyes in astonishment.

'Oh, my god! Cat! Now I know I'm in trouble. I'm hallucinating,' and he shut his eyes tightly, breathing several deep breaths before he opened them again.

'You're not hallucinating, my love. I am there and not there. Please try to concentrate on my face. Maybe I can work out where you are.' He held her gaze steadily, tears welling at the sight of his wife's beautiful face, not caring if it were not real, just wanting to hold the moment. Then, as suddenly as she had appeared to him, she fragmented into sparkled pieces which blinked out like the dying gasp of a hundred stars. He stared at the empty space for several minutes before his head fell to his chest and he drifted into a peaceful state of unconsciousness, somehow reassured by the strange vision but exhausted by the exertion.

'I know where he is,' Cat shouted, at the same time as a shout of triumph came from Rodney.

'I have life signs,' he said. 'Damn those Genii and their underground shelters. The sensors couldn't pick up a signal through the peculiar metal that they have buried themselves under this time. There are definitely at least a dozen people beneath us.'

'Is one of them Sheppard?' asked Ronon.

'No-way of knowing, except...' and they all looked to Cat.

'Yes. I found him. He's here. But he's in terrible trouble. I saw him in a large, square room.' She had great difficulty putting into words the distressing sight she'd seen. At first, the elation of finding him and the joy when he looked directly into her eyes had overcome all other fears for him. Now she told them of the hoop and the chains, and the evidence of torture on his body and she understood how they needed to hurry. With absolute certainty she pressed upon her friends the awful truth. If they didn't find him soon, however hard he fought, it might be too late.

Ronon cursed and Rodney and Teyla looked at her in horrified silence. 'Right then,' said Rodney. 'There's nothing for it. We're going to have to land this bucket.'

TBC

_Please R & R if you want to find out what happens next, and you know how much I always appreciate constructive criticism._


	4. Chapter 4

_Thank for the lovely reviews. I am updating much quicker than usual with this chapter._

The jumper landed heavily on the uneven ground of the desert planet. For now, the ground felt stable, although the weather conditions were clearly not the kind that anyone sane would venture out into. Rodney immediately grabbed his tablet, desperately working to find some kind of entrance to whatever lay below the surface crust, knowing there must be some way in, somewhere. Ronon was fiddling with his stunner, checking and re-checking it, unable to keep still but too restricted by the limited space in the jumper to pace around as he would normally. Teyla was next to Cat, her arm around her friend's exhausted shoulders. Cat was fitfully dozing, the strain of the effort to link with John too much for her. She couldn't know, but her head drooped in a way that almost exactly echoed the shape of John's as he slept in his chains. Minutes ticked by as the team took a final breather before whatever might happen next.

Rodney let out a tired cry. 'Okay, I think I've found some kind of entrance. The trouble is, I've no idea what lies beneath it and the sensors suggest it's narrow and steep, and goes on for some time and god knows what the landing is like at the bottom. If i didn't know any better, I'd say it most reminds me of one of those huge death slides you get at adventure parks. I have no idea how it opens either, but it is right by the gate and seems to match almost exactly the last place we saw Sheppard. It could well be how he was captured in the first place. Makes sense, when you think about it. We are lured to the planet; the Genii have probably been watching us coming and going on various planets and understand enough about our 'patterns' to know that Sheppard always heads out of a gate first.' Rodney remembered the first time he had gone through the gate on a mission with his friend, then just another cocky flyboy in his mind. Every other senior military man he'd known had always let his ordinary foot soldiers take the lead, following the protocol of protecting the most important officer, but Sheppard was different. Since then, Rodney had understood the total and absolute bravery of the man, unwilling to lead his team into any danger that he hadn't tested out first, which was probably why he always got into so much trouble. 'I guess they also have some kind of surveillance system to check that it was he who activated whatever kind of door it is. For all I know, they may even have developed a sensor that can be tuned to specific life signs, if they were determined to capture him, rather than randomly grab whoever stood on the entrance. The seemingly 'volcanic' activity we experienced last time doesn't seem to match with my readings of the planet either. Perhaps they set up some kind of massive vibration from below which caused the ground to move as it did. I just don't know right now. Whichever, I'm really not sure what we do other than stand in the right place and jump up and down.' The thought that it was John specifically who the Genii wanted was worrying in itself. Nobody had voiced their real fears: that no ransom had been asked for; no deal requested; no news of his survival or otherwise. Whoever had him clearly had was not looking for any kind of exchange and that could only suggest that they had no intention of letting him survive.

Ronon shifted. 'So, we head off, jump up and down on the entrance and rescue Sheppard?' The question was rhetorical and Ronon's call for action.

Cat shifted and began to ready herself, causing Rodney to pass an urgent look in Teyla's direction. While there may be some clearer evidence of sixth sense between Cat and John, this team understood each other so well that no more comment was needed. 'You must stay here, Cat,' Teyla said firmly to her friend.

Car began to object. She needed to be with them when they found John; she might be of use if they couldn't find him; she couldn't bear to be left behind; not know what was happening. The team was resolute in the face of all her objections.

Rodney had the last word. 'It's a long way down that shaft and we don't know what's at the bottom. You could do yourself damage, but more importantly you could hurt the baby. John wouldn't want to place either of you in danger for his sake. You know that. And, if anything happens to us, or we don't get to him in time, you need to be able to escape: to keep your baby safe at all costs. If you stay here, you might be able to contact him again and re-assure him. I don't know if we'll be able to establish radio contact from below the surface, but I'll try.' He glanced at his friends for support, and then continued,' Stay here and wait for us. If we're not back in 2 hours, or you haven't heard from us, or if the weather conditions worsen and the jumper is in danger, then you must dial Atlantis and return.'

Teyla and Ronon placed re-assuring hands on her shoulders, and Ronon nodded confirmation with a slight smile, then before she could disagree they were gone, leaving her alone with her thoughts and fears and a whispered 'good luck.'

***

How long he'd managed to sleep, he had no way of knowing. The plan to stay still and let his arms go numb had worked to a point but as he shifted his legs to gain some purchase on the ground the movement caused rivers of agony to flow up his from his shoulders to his fingers as sensation returned. 'Nice one, John,' he cursed under his breath as he tried to find a more comfortable position. The voice that came out was course and weak and his throat was sore. How long since he'd had a drink of water? Again, no way of knowing, but given the strange hotness that was creeping over his body, it was way too long.

He shook his befuddled head, trying to clear the gauze that shimmered on the surface of his eyes, but to no avail. 'So not good news,' he thought. Weakness had reached into every part of him, a weakness that showed him all too clearly that, if he wasn't miraculously rescued soon, then he'd not make it. All he had to sustain him was the memory of the strange hallucination and the glittering ring on the floor. Both became one and the same, seeming to channel all his memories of Cat which came crashing down, like jumping under an ice-cold waterfall on a steaming hot summer's day, keeping him alive, keeping him going, keeping him awake. He tried not to think about the old wives' tale that all your life flashes in front of you in the moments before you die, preferring to escape to the best memories, the best times they'd had together. The first time he saw her, with her beautiful, clear-seeing blue eyes catching his as he stood on the balcony in the gate room and the strangest sensation he'd had then that this was something special. The battles followed by the making up, which almost made them worthwhile. Their wedding night on New Athos and the games she loved to play, exciting and surprising him with their passion and inventiveness. Their times on the East Pier, their 'place', reserved for many of the most important moments of their relationship. The surprising joy of finding out he was to be a father, yet another amazing and beautiful experience she had gifted to him. He allowed his thoughts to wrap around him like a soft blanket, taking away the reality of the pain and his situation. The vision had been so real at the time, but he knew it must have been a figment of his, increasingly demented, imagination. Still, it was a lovely vision; she'd touched his face; she'd told him they were coming for him; he'd hang onto it as long as he could, allow it and his remembrances to sustain him.

The sound of heavy footfall echoed along the corridor and a familiar shadow soon towered over him. Charel 's smile told ominously of things that were about to come. 'So, John, have we had time to consider our position?'

He paused, wanting to make some quip about people who insist on using the third person for effect but too exhausted and weakened to find the right witty repost, then tried to clear his throat and in as strong a voice as he could muster replied hoarsely, 'Well, yes I have. And, I have to say that my 'position' leaves much to be desired.' A glimmer of something akin to relish crossed her face as she thought he was about to give in. 'But, if you could just undo my arms and give me a nice soft sofa to sit on, I'm sure it could be much improved!' Her smile turned to one of anger. She raised her large hand and, this time not content with a slap, she punched him hard, his left cheekbone making an alarming 'crack' as fist met flesh, repeating the action as if to make quite certain she'd done maximum damage. He felt hot metallic liquid stream from the side of his mouth before he collapsed once more into unconsciousness.

***

In the jumper, Cat grasped her left cheek, wincing at the sharp biting pain which came from nowhere, jerking her hand up to her mouth to wipe away the non-existent blood, involuntary tears washing over the soreness. 'Oh, my God, John!' she shouted into nothingness. 'Whoever is doing this to you, I'll kill them, I swear.'

***

The trio stood in the swirling landscape, gritty sand whipping their faces as they attempted to stand up to the violent winds, standing as close to the place where John was taken as possible. They couldn't hear each other talk; they couldn't see each other; they didn't know what would happen next. Rodney was attempting to tap into his tablet, trying to find possible readings to lead them to any kind of opening. Suddenly, the ground began to rumble and, before they could shout a warning to each other, it gave way beneath them. Sand flew around them, choking their throats and grazing any skin left open to the elements; then, as quickly, it disappeared and they were sliding away from the sky and into darkness. Rodney's approximation of a death slide was frighteningly accurate. He felt his stomach lurch as he picked up speed, aware of other bodies around him, beaten and buffeted by the sides of the slide and the impact with other body parts. It felt like minutes, but it was probably only seconds, before they landed in a heavy heap at the bottom, thankfully their fall broken by some carefully laid matting.

Ronon was the first to rise. The place was desolate and quiet. He'd expected some kind of welcoming committee given Rodney's various theories and turned to his friend with a quizzical raise of his eyebrow.

'I know, I know,' grumbled Rodney. 'Give me a minute.' He checked the life-signs detector. 'Well, I guess that disproves my theory about surveillance on the surface. If this is where Sheppard fell, then it was either accidental and they picked him up later, or planned in advance, which I'm beginning to be more convinced about. There must be sensors underground that trigger the mechanism if pressure is placed at the right spot. How we get out of here is another matter entirely, though.'

'Let's not worry about that, now,' growled the big Satedan impatiently. 'First we find Sheppard, second we kill the bastard responsible for hurting him, then we escape, if necessary taking out every Genii on this base in the process. Anyone have a problem with that?'

He looked at his colleagues with a fiery stare that suggested they might argue back and dared them not too. Rodney paused for a minute and then simply shrugged his shoulders and in his best Shepperdise said, 'Sounds like a plan!'

The corridor ahead appeared to be chiselled out of solid stone and echoed eerily as they walked along it. They were heading towards the nearest cluster of life-signs, hoping to get lucky. Someone would know where John was being kept and they were all past the point where they cared how they found out. As individuals, you would be hard-pressed to find more caring, gentle, loyal or fair people, but if a member of their 'family' was threatened or hurt, woe-betide anyone who got in there way or who was responsible. Years of fighting against outrageous odds, against dangerous foes, had taught them to battle even harder when their backs were against the wall, but also that the team mattered above almost everything else, each prepared to sacrifice themselves for the other. Even Rodney, once the epitome of selfishness, would give up his life or freedom to save one of his friends, and this was John, his rock and his best friend.

Ahead there was a glimmer of light and the laughter of several male voices. Ronon gestured to Teyla and Rodney to stay behind him as he crept forward to the entrance of the room. Inside were three Genii soldiers, in the familiar green/grey uniform, playing what looked remarkably like a Pegasus version of poker around a small round table. They were clearly not expecting company and their weapons were stacked casually against the wall behind them. With practised stealth Ronon took out two of them with his blaster before they could even move, then pinned the third to the floor, arms pulled tightly behind his back, a look combining surprise and terror on his young features.

'Stay still and you will not be hurt,' said Teyla, kneeling by the soldier. 'All we need you to tell us is where Colonel Sheppard is being kept and your life will be spared. It is your choice. Ronon here is quite angry and would be very happy to kill you all, but I can stop him if you just 'play the game'. Rodney smiled at Teyla's Earth expression. She'd picked up many over the last seven years or so, some not entirely as polite for a 'lady' as they ought to be.

By the look on his face, the Genii was clearly stuck between a rock and a hard place: should he refuse their request, he was clearly in danger of losing his life but Charel was a dangerous woman too and he certainly didn't want to do anything to get on her bad side. The pressure on his back clearly decided him, though. 'He's being kept in the lower chamber. There's a strong room and a cell down there.' He looked around in time to see the weapon being pointed at him before he was stunned into unconsciousness.

'Okay, let's tie them up and head out. Time is of the essence here.' Ronon and Teyla roughly secured the soldiers and then the trio headed back out into the corridor. Unseen, a surveillance camera followed them as they ran in the direction of the lower levels.

***

John was rudely awakened from unconsciousness by a sharp punch to his abdomen, which took his breath from him in its unexpectedness and force. He managed to force a 'what?' from his dry lips before more blows rained down on him, hitting him from all sides, breaking ribs and bruising already damaged flesh. He was aware of at least three people around him and that one of them was Charel. When finally it stopped, she leant forward and lifted his chin in an awful parody of the tenderness shown to him by Cat in his 'vision'. 'Now, John. You need to know that it is over for you. Word has reached us that your friends are here, but don't get your hopes up. You'll be dead before they reach here, let me assure you. And then we can deal with them too. I told you it was hopeless.' At this she took a long knife from the table behind her and held it to his neck. 'I've had enough of playing these futile games. If it had been up to me we would have executed you the moment you arrived. It is time you paid for your crimes against the Genii. And when your friends arrive they will find your life already extinguished in the brief moments before we take theirs'.

John closed his eyes and waited for the inevitable. In one last gasp attempt he stretched his mind beyond the prison, trying to find that connection, if it really existed, with Cat; hoping for the chance to say goodbye. For the briefest moment he was sure he felt her and heard her voice and he thought the words 'I love you' as loudly as he could, before he felt a searing agony in his stomach as the knife found its home. Charel laughed as she twisted it, then stood back to watch his life-blood literally drain from him. He had always thought death would be painful and shocking: instead, a strange peacefulness washed over him as his body began to fade. He was vaguely aware of blood pooling around his feet and of a distant shouting, then he felt his heart begin to slow with the effort of pumping less and less of his life around his body. At the last, he saw through his fading eyes three familiar figures run into the room and Charel's body arch as Ronon's stunner hit her, then everything went black as he accepted his fate.

The sight that met Ronon, Rodney and Teyla as they entered the room was heart-rending for the three friends. Rodney felt rather than heard the stunner go off next to him, totally focussed on the man before him, aware of the knife in his gut and the red river beneath him. He ran to his friend and felt for the non-existent pulse, then turned with tears in his eyes to the anxious face of Teyla. 'It's too late,' he whispered shakily, 'he's dead.'

Cat screamed with agony at the pain that knifed through her stomach, terrified for John and for their child. 'No!' she screamed as she fell doubled up to the floor. Something terrible had happened. Had she felt him reach out and touch her in the moments before? Had she heard him say 'I love you'? 'No!' she screamed again. 'You will not die. I will not let it happen. John, John listen to me. You have to fight. You can't leave me, do you hear? I won't let you. For God's sake and our child's, you have to stay with us.

TBC

_Okay, now I really do need some reviews to keep me going. I think I'm exhausted just writing about these events! You all know how much your reviews encourage me to keep writing._


	5. Chapter 5

_Thank you to all my lovely reviewers. I listen to your comments and really appreciate them._

'No', Cat shouted again. The distant connection between her and John was fading and the pain in her abdomen almost gone. 'This is not going to happen.' With all the strength she could muster she concentrated on him, trying to grasp a thread of life to pull on. Suddenly she was in a vast white space. In the distance she could see a hazy outline purposefully striding towards a door in the far wall, the familiar spiky hair and the lazy gait showing her his identity. 'John!' she shouted and ran as fast as she could towards his retreating figure. 'Don't go! I'm here now. We're here, my darling.'

She saw him turn and sensed the determination in his stance as he struggled to make his way towards her as though fighting against an invisible force and, as he neared, a range of emotions fluttered across his face: confusion, pleasure, fear, resolution all crossed his features in quick succession. Somehow, they managed to meet in the centre of the space; she threw her hands around his waist, feeling the pull from the distant door attempting to suck his body and the last remaining strands of his life through it. In turn he hugged her with a tightness and a desperation he'd never felt before and together they huddled, united in one purpose. They could concentrate on nothing else, the physical effort almost too much for both of them, but strengthened by their mutual resolve and refusal to give in; a stubborn cling to life. A third helped too. From within her, Cat felt the unintelligible voice speaking to her again; giving her strength.

In the dark room, deep underneath the planet, Rodney and Ronon were paralysed with shock. Teyla was stroking John's forehead tenderly, as though a touch could bring him back to them and Rodney cried tears the like of which he'd never cried before. Losing his friend once had been bad enough, but to be too late to save him, too late even to say goodbye was unbearable. Ronon was numb in disbelief. Even when Todd had fed on John, even when he saw his desiccated form on that Genii screen, he'd still believed that his friend could and would survive anything.

Suddenly, Teyla shouted as John's lifeless body jerked and he began to breath. 'What.....?? By the Ancestors, he's alive. Rodney, Ronon, he is breathing.' She checked John's pulse. 'His pulse is weak and thready, but it is there. I do not understand.' In front of them their friend had come to life, still with the gruesome knife sticking into his gut and the livid bruising shining against his pale skin. 'Ronon, we need to find a way out of here and quickly. Someone needs to get help.'

Ronon thought for a minute. 'On it,' he shouted as he ran from the room. Teyla placed John's head in her lap, still gently stroking it as though stopping would end his life again and looked up at Rodney. While the tears had dried, leaving dirty rivulets down his cheeks, his colour had not yet returned, nor had he said a thing. Eventually, he managed to squeeze out a few shocked words, his eyes fixed firmly on John's face.

'I...I don't understand. I mean, he was dead, right? Look at all that blood! And that knife!'

'I do not understand either, Rodney, but that does not matter. We need to concentrate on getting him safely out of here and back to Atlantis. Then we can worry about why he is alive and how he seemed to come back from the dead. I have seen many strange things in my life, but never this.' Teyla and Rodney hushed again, silently guarding John, waiting for whatever Ronon planned to do, trusting his resolve to find a solution.

Ronon ran back towards the room where they had tied up the first soldiers, hoping at least one would be conscious. Luck was with him and, grabbing the smaller man by the throat, he growled, 'Now, you're going to show me the way out of here and you are going to do it now. Because, if you don't,' and here he pointed to the other man, 'I will kill you and let him tell me instead.'

The young man nodded a frightened and hasty agreement, something in his attacker's expression telling him that it was dangerous to deny him anything, and Ronon untied him roughly, pulling him to his feet. 'Now, move,' he threatened. The corridor they ran along gently sloped upwards at first, then at the last there was a steep set of steps and a large iron hatch which opened up onto the windswept and sandy surface of the planet. From here, Ronon could just see the gate and the jumper parked near to it. For a moment, he was torn. Should he tell Cat what was happening? In the end, he decided that she would forgive him under the circumstances and, stunning the Genii once more, he placed a scarf around his mouth and nose and ran for the gate.

The hasty request for military and medical assistance was met with shock and surprise in the gate room. The city had already grieved for its lost military commander. Now, it seemed, he might again do the impossible, this time outdoing even his remarkable record. Woolsey did not hesitate. Within minutes a medical team and the first group of marines were sent through the gate, another two teams already getting ready to depart. Ronon had requested three teams: one to guard the gate, one to take out any resistance in the Genii base and one to protect John. A second medical team was prepping just in case it was needed. At the other end, they wasted no time. Jennifer Keller found it difficult to take on board what Ronon was saying and privately doubted that John had been 'dead' as he suggested. It didn't really matter, anyway. From the sound of his injuries, he would need to be handled very carefully, if she were not to have to operate at the scene, but even she was unprepared for the little tableau she saw as she ran into the torture room.

John was lying, still and pale, his head in Teyla's lap and Rodney was leaning against the far wall, shock and disbelief etched onto his features. Ronon paused behind her before stepping forward and standing protectively over his friend and mentor. In the centre of the picture was the awful knife, deep in John's stomach; already drying blood had seeped from the wound and pooled deeply around his middle, shiny and slick on the dark floor. There was evidence too that he'd taken a considerable beating, with a nasty swelling over his left cheek bone and deep wounds across his back and arms. To one side was the prone figure of a tall woman, a grimace of anger on her face as though stopped in the process of some awful act. Jennifer ran to his side and felt his pulse. Though thready, it was beating regularly and yet all her medical training told her that he should not be alive. 'Right, let's see what we can do to stabilise him so that we can get him out of here.' She fell back on all her expertise. 'I want a blood transfusion straight away, and a saline drip please? We'll bind the weapon and the wound so that we can move him. I really don't want to operate in these dirty conditions if I can help it. We also need morphine. He may be unconscious, but he could well be suffering here.'

Within ten minutes she had stabilised him as much as she felt was possible and he was placed carefully and tenderly on a stretcher. They were just about to head out when Teyla noticed something glimmering in the dust of a dark corner and leant down to pick it up. It was John's ring, the one she had helped Cat choose what seemed like an eternity ago. Carefully, she put it in her pocket, hoping that she would see the day when he would wear it proudly around his neck again and she cursed the woman lying on the ground next to them, still unconscious from the blast of Ronon's gun. Knowing John, she understood what pain it would have given him to have the Athosian ring taken from him and, though generally a gentle soul and kind of heart, she wanted nothing more than to kill the woman. No. Her time would come, and she sincerely hoped that it would be at the hands of her best friend. For now, they would focus on getting John safely home. She would leave the marines to deal with Charel and the Genii left on the base.

The next was not easy. It wasn't difficult to get volunteers to carry John. Every one of the men wanted to help, to take their commander to safety. Ronon and even Rodney were also desperate to carry him, not wanting to let him out of their sight. In the end, four marines carried the stretcher, Rodney and Teyla at the front and Ronon at the back guarding the rear and the painstaking walk to the surface began. Every jolt and every little shift in level could have been fatal. All the time, John remained peacefully still, as though in some kind of trance. All were worried about the steep steps to the surface and how they would get the stretcher and its occupant safely to the top.

'Okay!', said Ronon from the front. 'Here we go. I'll take the back, two of you steady the middle of the stretcher and two plus Rodney and Teyla front. With all his strength and a determination that his friend should come to no more harm, he virtually pushed the stretcher to the surface by himself and within minutes they were safely heading towards the gate, protecting John from the harsh weather conditions on the surface.

'Ronon, Rodney, you go through the gate with John, I will check on Cat and let her know what is happening. She must be desperately anxious.' Teyla ran towards the jumper, anxious to let her friend know that John was alive. Behind her came the familiar whooshing sound of the gate opening and the wet plop as the medical team took its charge back to the relative safety and security of Atlantis. She tried not to worry about what might happen next, putting all thoughts to one side, unwilling to dwell upon the dangers that John had yet to face or to think about the strange events in the Genii stronghold. In a different time, with different circumstances, she knew that she and John might well have been lovers and she held for him a deep affection that went way beyond mere friendship, but had never quite crossed the boundary into passion. His ability to stay alive, to fight through seemingly impossible odds and come out smiling at the other end had been her rock for many years. Back on Atlantis when she believed he'd finally gone, her grief had been impossible to bear and she now was determined to hold onto the tiny thread of hope that he might still live. Anything else, she had decided, was impossible.

While the rescue had been taking place, a small medical team were having a puzzling dilemma of their own. It wasn't that anyone had forgotten Cat, it was just that it had been assumed that she would be safely protected within the square solidity of the jumper and everyone knew that she would want John to be their priority. They expected her to be anxiously waiting, yes, but what they found was a prostrate Cat, lying on her back on the floor of the jumper, eyes tightly closed. Nothing they could do woke her up and her condition was causing real concern. There were no obvious injuries, but her heart rate was erratic and thready, and there was evidence of rapid eye movement behind the closed eye-lids, as though she were dreaming vividly.

Teyla took in the scene in front of her. As one who had been through many strange events, her belief boundaries were way more stretched than the medics who were trying vainly to wake Cat up and she began to grasp the significance of what she saw, an understanding much assisted by the almost matching expression on Cat's still face, pale and strained, to that of John's as he was carried through the gate. Somehow, some way, the two were linked and she knew instantly that they had to take Cat back to Atlantis as soon as possible to be close to her husband. If she had sensed John's dying breaths, she might well have reached out with her mind and have tried to stop him going and, if that were the case, then distance might be important, but there was also a terrible danger that if one died, the other might too, and that would mean the loss of more than two lives.

'Quickly,' she insisted, 'we must take Doctor Sheppard back to Atlantis immediately. Please do not ask me why now: we have no time to lose.'

Woolsey waited anxiously for the return of the teams. He knew how much John Sheppard meant to the Atlantis population and how important he was to the whole expedition and, damn it, he had also become important to him, as a friend and as his 2ic. The loss had been felt so deeply through the city that a shadow of deep sadness had crept through every corridor and very corner. Tensely, he watched the medical team return through the gate with their precious cargo; even from his vantage point he was able to see the knife tightly bound, giving the uncomfortable impression that John was pinned by it to the stretcher below.

Just as the gate shut down behind them, Jennifer Keller shouted and the stretcher was lowered in a careful rush. 'He's stopped breathing. Quickly, bag him.' Desperately she worked on her patient, trying to breathe once more into the pale and lifeless form. At the same time the gate dialled again and an urgent message came through from Teyla.

'We must bring Doctor Sheppard back to Atlantis now. I am afraid that Colonel Sheppard will not survive so far away from her. Please, hurry.'

_They clung to each other tightly, the distant door pulling him towards it like a powerful magnet. Her arms were numb with effort and she could feel his hands grabbing her back, imprinting finger marks in her skin. Suddenly, he let go and they were lifted from the ground, the invisible force holding them in the air for the briefest of moments, before drawing them towards the exit. At first, she refused to let go and then she realised that she couldn't. Together they were dying, leaving the strange room to whatever lay beyond._

Without a moment's pause, Woolsey beckoned to Chuck to lower the shield and a second stretcher appeared through the blue puddle and was placed next to that of her husband's.

_They noiselessly dropped to the ground, becalmed once more, only this time so close to the exit that she could almost reach out and touch it. She could feel his breath on her neck as he strained from the exertion of resistance and once more his arms tightened around her in the desperate cling for survival._

'Okay, don't tell me how, but he's breathing again. Let's get them both down to the infirmary. We must operate as soon as possible.' Side-by-side the two, no three, were rushed out of the gate-room, Ronon still at the rear of John's stretcher and Teyla with Cat, on the surface a strange and potentially tragic scene, yet the group friends and colleagues who accompanied them felt more hope than they had in days. There was something about the unity of expression that connected Cat and John which emitted a powerful sense of strength and resolve. Even Rodney, normally rigidly scientific in all things, sensed something else, something beyond the explicable. Mind you, after seven years in the Pegasus Galaxy, he had begun to realise that almost anything was possible.

The scene in the infirmary was both familiar and strange. Rodney sat on a chair next to Cat's bed, laptop in hand, desperately trying to occupy himself. While the priority was John's survival, his scientific curiosity was peaked and he had insisted that sensors were placed on their heads to monitor their brain waves. What he was recording astonished him. They matched perfectly, every peak and dip exactly the same and he knew that to be impossible. The only explanation was that they were telepathically linked, as one. Suddenly, he had a thought and rushed from the room to talk to one of the doctors. Within minutes they returned, and a baby monitor was set up next to Cat's bed. The nurses had checked her initially and confirmed that the heart beat was fine and strong, but he had another theory. Within minutes, the theory was confirmed. Before him was absolute scientific proof that the three were as one, their brains perfectly matched, unified in the battle for survival. Normally, Rodney Mckay would shout such a discovery from the highest tree top, but for once sense and sensitivity, and maybe just a little emotional exhaustion, overcame his ego and he quietly saved away his findings, to be revealed at a more appropriate moment.

Teyla, while desperately worried about John, was on the other side of Cat, quietly stroking her arm and watching her face. Every now and then there would be little tremors across Cat's features as though some effort was taking place and then she would relax again. Only once had she shown more expression, her face contorting with what appeared to be pain, followed by a very familiar stubborn determination so characteristic of her, then had relaxed back its almost eerie calm. It was almost mesmerising, watching her, as though Teyla could somehow understand John's condition by watching these, often miniscule, shifts. A nurse stayed by the bed, frequently checking Cat's pulse and respiration and monitoring the life inside her.

Ronon paced the far end of the room in hyper-active exhaustion, unable to relax until there was some definite outcome. It had been three hours since John had gone into the operating theatre. He, too, had half an eye on Cat, watching for some kind of clue to how his friend was doing, dreading every over-long intake of breath that might signify the end of both. Just as he felt ready to collapse, leaning up against the wall, the doors were flung open and Jennifer Keller arrived, taking off her mask as she did.

Quickly she allayed their fears. 'We managed to remove the knife and repair most of the damage. He's lost a lot of blood, but it was lucky we managed to transfuse when we did. The knife missed all vital organs, fortunately. Other than that, his cheekbone is broken and he won't be so pretty for a while and the wounds on his back and arms will probably fade to slight scars. We nearly lost him once, but that man is a fighter.'

'Or maybe he had some help?' Teyla looked at the peacefully sleeping face of Cat. She thought back to that moment when Cat appeared to struggle and fight against some invisible foe, and she knew that this had been the last crisis moment, when she had battled once more for his life.

John's bed was wheeled out of theatre and placed next to his wife's. It would be a while before he woke up, and his recovery would be long, but side-by-side they could find a way through the next few weeks.

_There was a noise in the distance, a regular beep and, she was sure, a female voice. Imperceptibly, the need to hold onto John began to fade as the force that was pulling him out of the room abated, as a storm dies down. He gradually released his arms from around her and looked smilingly into her eyes, his hazel eyes glowing pale from the iridescent light that shone around them, then he cupped her chin in his hands and gently kissed her on the lips. As he did, the room faded away, to be replaced by the more familiar rain-forest greens of Atlantis' walls and the pungent odour of antiseptic peculiar to the infirmary._

Cat opened her eyes. It took a while for the world to focus and she was distantly aware of her name being called and a hand on her arm.

'Cat, it's Teyla. You are safe and in Atlantis.' Teyla touched her arm. 'Look, John is next to you. He is alive. You saved him.'

Slowly, Cat turned her head to the bed next to her. Though covered in bruising, with a spaghetti of wires attached to his torso and head, he was definitely alive and breathing, not even needing the artificial stimulation of a ventilator. She knew she was smiling, just as she knew the baby inside her was too, and she cried tears of relief and exhaustion, before she drifted into a natural and restful sleep.

Deep in the bowels of the city, Charel paced the cell, anger seeping from every pore of her body.

'It's not over yet,' she sneered, under her breath.

TBC

_And it isn't over yet! Please R & R if you want. Constructive comments always appreciated._


	6. Chapter 6

_Thank you to all of you who reviewed my last chapter. It is always appreciated. _

It must have been in the early hours of the morning when Cat finally awoke, rested and relaxed as she hadn't been for an age. As consciousness stirred, she remembered the events of the last few days and hours and turned to her right, praying that it hadn't been a dream. In the bed next to her, still unconscious but looking peaceful, was John. On his face, in sleep, was a smile and, although pale and wan with awful swelling and bruising around his cheekbone, he looked so beautiful that she wanted to cry all over again. Stiffly she swung her legs over the bed, desperate to test her strength. After all, she hadn't been actually injured, although at times it had felt like that. Had it been a dream? She really didn't think so. Although she had no sense of another mind connected with hers now, she could vividly recall the feeling of the three of them united in a single determination to survive and, as she remembered, she unconsciously stroked her had across her belly, somewhat surprised by the growth that had happened in the last week. She knew that somehow their unborn child had a part to play in John's miraculous survival, as though desperate not to be fatherless before it even saw the world, and, although she couldn't possible explain it, she believed it absolutely. How anyone would put it in their reports though, she couldn't imagine.

Carefully, she tested her feet on the floor and, finding that they only felt vaguely like two sponges, stumbled over to John's bed, sitting rather more firmly on the side of it than she'd intended.

'Well, that was graceful!' she muttered to herself.

Smiling, she took a little while to take in the alive man in the bed, drinking his presence like a wanderer in the desert that has just arrived at a beautiful oasis. A stray lock of hair had drifted casually in front of his left eye and she brushed it tenderly back, and then leant down and kissed his forehead, taking in that special 'John' smell and feeling the warmth of his skin against her lips, confirming that life flowed through his veins. She needed the touch and security of his body next to hers and crept in next to him, under the hospital sheets, snuggling up against his shoulder, desperate to feel his skin next to hers. He had promised her he'd return and, though it had taken a little doing, he was here and she put a protective arm around him, promising herself sleepily never to let him go again. As her eyes closed, the lights around them softened too, to a mellow pale silvery gold: Atlantis was glad for their return and sensed something new for her to love; a little scrap of life that had begun to call out to her.

It was in this position that the night nurse found them. Quietly and with a smile, she pulled the curtains around the sleeping couple.

As the morning began to stir in the city, so the infirmary became more active. The night staff tiredly, but at least this morning with joy in their steps, disappeared to their own beds and Jennifer Keller and her day nurses arrived. She noticed the curtains around the bed and took a quick peep through them, grinning broadly at the sight she saw. She had never come across a couple as close as these two, so well-fitted in every way. Of all the men she knew, John Sheppard had been the least likely candidate for a match of such closeness: a loner and a solitary man, he'd always dismissed any serious claim on his affections. She remembered the first time she had stood next to him and noticing how damn good he smelled: a heady mix of masculinity, after-shave and hair gel. And yet, increasingly, he'd become more and more reclusive, refusing the more obvious female advances that came his way on a daily, if not hourly basis. She guessed that he'd become pretty fed up with all the attention over the years and, let's face it, the responsibility he held and the struggles and the stresses inherent in his position, would have beaten many men into total submission. Then, along came Cat and to all their surprise she had taken his heart and surrounded it with a warm blanket of comfort and security. And, here they were, expecting a child and, if rumour were true, one that might well have some amazing abilities of its own.

'Well, I'll leave them be for a bit longer,' she thought, then closing the curtains turned to her nurse and said, 'Leave them. Their checks can wait for an hour and if they have any 'visitors' (here she paused for effect, knowing that the younger nurse knew exactly who she meant) then tell them to go away and come back later,' before heading off to her office.

John stirred, feeling a familiar weight on his shoulder and the tickle of blonde hair on his cheek. Painfully, he turned his head to look at the sleeping form curled up next to him, then tried to focus on the world beyond the bed. Little of the last few days made sense and he certainly had no memory of getting here. He felt his cheek cautiously and winced then pressed a hand gently to his stomach, grimacing at the tenderness of the wound beneath and slowly some semblance of memory began to form. There was a dark room, a tall woman, a knife, pain and then a vast white space, Cat and someone else, someone familiar but he knew he hadn't met before. His movement must have woken Cat, because he felt her shift and knew that her eyes were open before he even looked at her. She raised herself up on one arm and looked tenderly into his.

'Hi! How're you feeling?' The words sounded a little ordinary given the extra-ordinary experience they had just shared, but given his reticence and her pragmatic character, it was going to be hard for them to broach the subject.

'I'm fine,' he said, equally unsure of what to say next. 'A little sore, I guess! What happened? How did we get back? I mean, I'm sure that my team pulled off yet another daring rescue, yes? And, why are you here? Is everything alright with the baby?' Worried, his eyes wandered anxiously down towards her belly.

'Our baby's fine, better than fine.' She paused, wondering if she should go on. Indeed, the memories of the last few days and the strange things that had happened had begun to feel as though they were a dream. Then she told him. Of how she had known he was still alive, of the strangest connection she felt she had with him, of the little voice coming from inside her that seemed to give her strength, of how the city thought he was dead, but that she convinced his team to steal a jumper and rescue him and of the probable consequences of _that _particular action which had only just occurred to her. As she spoke, she watched the range of emotions flash through his hazel eyes and she hesitated before continuing. 'Do you remember anything about what happened to you in the Genii prison?' She raised herself to a sitting position on the edge of his bed and looked at him intently.

She watched his expression as the memories started to return, all the pain and suffering he had gone through showing in his eyes and the furrowed brow. With amazement he managed to say, 'she took my ring. I remember watching it shine on the floor. I heard your voice in my head, or thought I did. She, she stabbed me. I felt my blood leave my body. I...I was dying and you saved me, or I think you did. There was a white space and you were there. We held on to each other tightly. Once I let go, but you refused to. Then I woke up here. Our baby...?'

'Yes. I know. I don't understand it either. Do you think it has anything to do with the gene? I mean, if we are such strong carriers, do you think the baby's will be more?'

There was a deep silence between them broken only by the gentle beeping of the monitors by his bed. The question was really rhetorical, neither able to give an answer and they fell back into comfortable companionship and a loving embrace, both satisfied that no more need be said. One of their united strengths was the ability not to over-talk a situation or problem, the worst being dealt with and forgotten, the best being appreciated and stored away as with this one, each memory only serving to increase the tight bond that existed between them. They would soon fall back into normal daily routines, unshackled by the past.

***

Richard Woolsey had a lot on his plate. Firstly, he had the prospect of a V.I.P. arriving in the city within the week. General O'Neill was on his way aboard The Daedelus. He had already been informed of the 'miraculous' return of Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard which he had met with a simple 'well I_'m _not surprised'. Secondly, there was the new threat from the Genii; he had been unable to contact Laden Radeen through the usual channels and was beginning to fear the worst. While he could never have said that he trusted the man, at least it was 'the devil you know' and Laden had come through for them on several occasions in the last few years. These powerful Genii factions all were striving for military control and that couldn't be good. The last thing the people of this galaxy needed was a military dictatorship, especially now the Wraith were in apparent decline and many civilisations were just beginning to recover. Thirdly, but by no means least, Charel was in their custody and needed dealing with. He had contemplated waiting for the General to arrive for her interrogation, but given the problems she was causing to her guards, he thought it needed to be dealt with sooner. In any case, she might have vital information on the Genii faction that had deposed Laden. He had a niggling feeling that this was a problem that needed to chipped away at sooner, rather than later. Unfortunately, he would normally have relied on John Sheppard to interrogate the prisoner, but given the circumstances and his weakened condition that clearly was not viable. Lorne was a perfectly capable deputy, but he had not the same ability to wheedle out information from a prisoner as did John, whose intelligence and skill often shone through in such situations. This meant that he, Richard Woolsey, would need to personally take charge of questioning and he really wasn't looking forward to that. Finally, he was expecting a little deputation of the guilty rescue party. They had, after all, stolen a jumper and gone off world without permission, although he couldn't possibly argue at the outcome.

He was disturbed from his thoughts by a tentative tap on the door, and a rather nervous Rodney Mckay entered, followed by a more belligerent Ronon and the, as ever, calm Teyla. The odd group stood in slight disarray in the centre of his office but all united in a firm belief in the rightness of what they had done and prepared to suffer the consequences. Given the same set of circumstances, they would do exactly the same thing again.

Woolsey cleared his throat. 'We have a problem here. Strictly, you stole a jumper and left the city with military equipment that did not belong to you which is a court martial offence.' He glanced over to Rodney who opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by a raise of a hand before he had the chance to begin what would certainly have been a wordy rant. 'However, you did rescue the Colonel who would certainly have not survived if you had not. In other circumstances, you would probably be given a medal for your actions. However, there needs to be some visible action so that the message is communicated that this cannot happen again. Therefore, I intend to place a caution on all your records. If any such event should occur in the future, you will not be treated so lightly, I can assure you.' Here he stopped, and gave them one of his 'looks' which said 'conversation over'. Rodney scowled and was about to begin speaking when he was grabbed by Ronon and Teyla, and dragged forcibly from the room. As they left, Woolsey said, 'off the record, I personally want to thank you for what you did. It was very brave and probably foolhardy, but it had the best possible outcome and may well lead us to some vital Intel about what's going on with the Genii.' Here, he smiled, then bent down over his papers again signifying that it was now definitely time for them to leave.

***

Charel paced her cell, her long strides angrily pounding the floor, glowering ferociously at the two marines who guarded her. If this was Atlantis, as she was fairly sure of, then she was undoubtedly in deep trouble, given the death of their military commander and her part in it. She only hoped that she had given her colleagues enough time to secure their position, unhindered by the meddling of these damn Atlantians. _He_ had surprised her in his dogged determination to survive and, although she had heard much of him from fellow Genii who begrudgingly respected his military expertise and his bravery, she hadn't expected so much resistance from him. She knew him to be partnered and had hoped to play on that weakness, but somehow he had turned even that into a strength. She was unhappy with ending it the way she did, giving way to anger and frustration and rushed at the last. A longer and slower death had been in her plans. Still, at least she had the consolation of ending his life and that would sustain her through what was to come.

Woolsey was not looking forward to this particular interrogation. He had decided that Lorne should be present, but had deliberately excluded any members of SGA1. Ronon would probably have taken immediate revenge for the suffering inflicted on his friend and Woolsey wasn't too sure either about Teyla, or even Rodney. Sense informed him that there was still a possibility of gaining some kind of Intel from the scary female who glared at him murderously as he entered the room.

'Open the door,' he commanded the marines, and it swished open and closed behind him, the force-shield shimmering back to life at his back. 'Please, sit down.' It was more of an order than a request, but she still persisted in standing, towering over him. Woolsey looked at Lorne, who stepped forward and cocked his P90 loudly.

'I will sit.' She simply growled and lowered herself gracefully into the hard chair. 'But, I will say nothing to you. This is pointless. You may as well get it over and done with and kill me now. You will get nothing out of me.' She placed her hands in her lap and stared firmly at her interrogator.

'Please tell me where Laden Radeen is and what your people are planning? If you do, then I can promise that we will be more lenient with you.' Woolsey decided that there was no point in beating around the bush. She probably wouldn't tell him anything anyway. His request was met with stoic silence and he reminded himself that this was a very dangerous woman, shuddering at the thought of what she had done to John Sheppard. 'What did you hope to gain by torturing Colonel Sheppard? I would have thought that The Genii, of all people, would know that he does not give up information easily.'

For a moment he thought that she would remain silent, but then she clearly decided that this, at least, was something she was prepared to make comment upon. 'We wanted him out of the way. It meant that you would be distracted by his death and we could carry on building our strength. I did not really expect to get information from him, but it was a pleasure to watch him suffer. He has been responsible for many Genii deaths and I enjoyed the challenge.' Here she paused and the smile was one of pure hatred, but then her expression changed. 'What do you mean 'does'? I killed him. I watched the life drain from his body. He is dead.'

Woolsey took great delight in his reply. If he couldn't get information from her, then he could at least let her know she had failed in at least one part of her plan. 'Oh, he is alive. We rescued him in time. You have failed.'

At this, the awful woman stood to her full height and hit the table between them so hard with her fist that it broke in two then launched herself at Woolsey. Immediately, Lorne fired his stunner, pole-axing her so that she fell hard on top of the broken table just inches away from Richard Woolsey. Brushing himself down and trying not to look too shocked, he said, 'Well, I suppose that's all we're going to get from her for the moment. Pick her up, get rid of the pieces of table and double the guard. We'll leave the decision about what to do with her to General O'Neill when he arrives.' Gratefully, he exited the cell with as much grace as he could muster, leaving Lorne and the marines to deal with her. And it they were a little rough, and if she had a few more cuts and bruises than before, he would certainly decide not to notice.

***

Finally, Jennifer Keller had allowed the team to visit their friend. It would have proved difficult to stop them, Ronon virtually fighting his way into the infirmary and Rodney's incessant babble would probably have done the trick anyway. Cat was strong enough to be dressed and sitting by John's bed and he was propped up on his pillows, many of the tubes and wires now disconnected, smiling at his team mates as they virtually ran into the infirmary. Ronon was the first to reach the bed, leaning over and giving his friend a huge bear hug which caused John to wince out a breathless, 'careful Chewy, sore ribs, sore belly' before he was released, both men beaming widely. Teyla leant forward and kissed his cheek, whispering 'it is good to have you back, John'. Rodney hung around in the background before stepping forward and rather uncomfortably taking John's hand, the tears welling in his eyes giving away his emotions, briefly making eye-contact with the other man before they both lowered their eyes in the embarrassment of giving away too much. Then, a practiced unit, they sat in their usual positions around his bed. Once they would have competed for the prime position that was the chair by his side, but Cat had long since laid claim to that one and she was now so much part of the team that nobody questioned her right to be there. The group talked easily, John telling them as much as he could remember of his capture and they filling him in on the details of his rescue, but neither party touching on the strange connection between Cat and John. It would go unmentioned just as Cat and John had put the subject to bed. Maybe later, but now was not the time.

There was another purpose to the team's visit today. Once Woolsey knew that John was recovering, he had called in Teyla with a particular request. It was vital that The Sheppards were filled in on all that had happened since the rescue and he knew that she was the best person for the job.

Teyla waited for the right moment. From past experience she knew that John Sheppard was a man who needed his job and would be anxious to take the helm once more. Eventually, he turned to her and asked, 'Well, now tell me what's been going on while I've been away on my little vacation.' Typical John, she thought, to couch a request for information in such a jokey and self-deprecating way.

She started with the basic shop keeping: some stuff about an argument between a couple of marines; an outbreak of food-poisoning which had caused Chief Maria Johnson some headaches until they discovered the cause was some dicey meat brought back by an off-world expedition; the re-instatement of the 'John Sheppard' cocktail at Harry Burt's bar with the addition of an extra dash of something strong but as yet unidentified and the words Miracle Man added to its name (this caused John to laugh so loudly that he pulled his stitches); news about Torren and his latest word which was 'bubble' for some unknown reason; and that General O'Neill was on his way and would arrive with a few days, to take command of the whole Genii situation while John was still indisposed. He raised his eyes a little at this, especially when she told him how devastated he had been to hear of John's death and how relieved to discover that he was still alive. Eventually she came to the point where she would need to tell them.

'You must know that we have your captor here, John. Ronon only stunned her. She's in the cells, but she's not saying anything much to anyone. From what Mr Woolsey has told me, she is angry and violent and was not at all happy to discover that you were still alive. What we do know is that your capture was mostly intended to distract us from the military build up of her Genii faction.' She stopped to register the expression on his and Cat's faces.

It was hard to read John. He was clearly disconcerted by the news, but his military brain soon forgot personal feelings, replaced by how best to use her tactically in their latest run-in with The Genii. Cat, on the other hand, was a different matter. The hatred that crossed her features was difficult to mistake, tinged with a hardening that told clearly of a desire for retribution. So disturbed was she, that she had to get up and walk around the room to avoid hitting something or someone. More than anyone there, apart from John, she had _felt_ what he had gone through and she couldn't stand the idea of that woman being alive and here in Atlantis. A voice called her to her senses.

'Cat, Cat, come and sit down, please?' It was John. She walked back as calmly as she could, sat on the chair and took his offered hand. Meeting her eyes, he firmly said, 'Listen to me. You are _not_ to do anything stupid, do you hear? She is not worth it. We have our future and our child to think of. Leave Charel to the proper authorities. If we take personal revenge, we are no better than her. Do you hear me?' The last words were said with such force that she meekly nodded, such submission totally against her character.

'I hear you, my love. And I promise I will do nothing to put myself or our child in jeopardy.' He seemed to think this was enough and his face relaxed.

'But,' she thought, 'that doesn't mean to say that I will let the bitch get away with what she has done.'

_Please R & R. You know I like it and it encourages me to continue._


	7. Chapter 7

_A.N. Thanks as always to all my reviewers and those of you who particularly encouraged me to continue writing. _

Several days had passed since John Sheppard's return and the city was beginning to regain some semblance of normality. It is amazing how human beings fall back quickly into old routines. John was still in the infirmary, but Jennifer Keller had promised him that he could move back to his quarters within the next day, assuming there were no setbacks. Cat was passed fit and had already returned to her work, cataloguing happily in the Archives. There was a huge back log and it kept her mind off 'that woman' as she had taken to calling Charel. General Jack O'Neill would arrive within the next 24 hours to take temporary command, not of the day to day running of the city – that was John Sheppard's role and Jack had no intention of stepping on the younger man's toes, having great respect for his abilities - but of the interrogation of Charel and the investigation into the whereabouts of Laden Radeen and the current state of Genii politics.

The cafeteria was once again abuzz with noise and happy chatter: it had been strangely silent when Atlantis' inhabitants believed their military commander dead. Teyla had one last task to perform, now that John was on the mend, so she had asked Cat to have lunch with her.

'I found this on the floor when we rescued John,' she said simply as she passed the Athosian ring to Cat. 'I was going to give it back to him myself but I think it would be much better coming from you, do you not? He is probably not sure how to tell you it is lost and I feel certain that a little trip to the east pier might do the pair of you the world of good, once he has recovered a little more.' Teyla smiled at Cat broadly. Everyone in Atlantis knew that the east pier on a Saturday night was reserved for the couple and nobody asked too much about what went on there, although most had a pretty good idea. A few months ago a 'newbie' scientist decided it might be a 'laugh' to sneak onto the pier and take some candid pictures. Fortunately, Rodney had overheard him plotting and warned Lorne, who lay in wait for the young man and promptly arrested him on some spurious charge which kept him occupied for most of the evening. He got the message, although not without a certain amount of grumbling about the military throwing its weight around.

Cat smiled innocently, pocketed the ring and said archly, 'I don't know what you mean, Teyla!' This was just what she needed to take her mind off things and by the time she left the cafeteria she was already plotting the evening. Whether he would be fit enough for the coming Saturday she couldn't be sure. If he wasn't, it would simply give her more time to plan. And she was certain this was just what they both needed to take their minds off recent events. Oh yes, it was about time she indulged in a little bit of role play, and she already had a good idea of what part she would be playing.

***

Jack O'Neill couldn't have been happier about his return to Atlantis. When he set out from Earth, he was expecting to take temporary command of the city because of John Sheppard's death and, despite his casual reaction to the news that he was still alive, inwardly he was delighted. He had huge respect for the man who had more than justified the instinctual trust he had felt in his abilities. He didn't expect The Genii situation to be an easy one and Richard Woolsey had told him enough about Charel to make him realise that it wasn't going to be a walk in the park, but he was looking forward to the challenge: something that was missing in his semi-retired state. And, he had another happy task to perform when he arrived and, as far as he was concerned, it was about time too. It was this mission which was his absolute priority and he had quickly dismissed Richard Woolsey's overzealous and officious greeting, stopping his little greeting speech with a dismissive raise of his hand and the excuse of tiredness after a long journey.

Jack had long since learned not to have any expectations of anyone, especially the powers of recovery of a dedicated military man, so he was not really surprised to find John Sheppard sitting up in bed, playing with what looked like a Game Boy. Nor was he offended when the man raised his eyes in greeting and smiled, rather than the taught military salute that another officer might have given. Jack had never really been comfortable with that kind of formality and it was a pleasant relief to be in the company of a kindred spirit. He understood Sheppard absolutely, and knew that it was not from some lack of respect on his part.

'You've looked better,' was his greeting.

John smiled at his superior. The respect was mutual. Without Jack O'Neill he wouldn't be here today. 'Well, yes sir. Being beat up, dying and brought back to life again can do that.'

Jack shifted uncomfortably. He might be pleased to see the younger man recovering so well, let alone alive, but he was incapable of expressing his feelings, nor would John have known what to do if he had. Yet another way in which they were similar. There was a slightly awkward silence, before he cleared his throat, 'Look, it's like this. You know I've always had the greatest respect for what you've achieved here and now so does Richard Woolsey. God knows how you managed to win that one over. Anyway, I'm pleased to inform you that you have been promoted to full-blood Colonel as from now.' He stopped abruptly, smirking at the John's shocked reaction.

'Well, sir, I didn't expect _that!_' Once before John had cause to think about his family and how surprised they would have been to know he'd been promoted to Lieutenant Colonel. His thoughts ran to his brother, Dave. Yes, it was about time he tried to make some kind of contact with him especially now he was about to be a father and had a beautiful wife. A little of him slightly revelled in the surprise both bits of news would engender from a man who had never really understood what his younger sibling was made of, but John was not a man who easily bore grudges and a larger part wanted to show off Cat and disprove the belief that he was unable to maintain any kind of relationship.

Jack coughed. 'Right, well, there'll be a little ceremony and all when you're up and running. Until then, I will inform Woolsey and I'll let you tell friends, family and even distant acquaintances. Now, the other business. Tell me everything you know about this woman Charel and fill me in on the Genii situation.'

It took John the good part of an hour and he was exhausted by the end, from a need to repress still raw emotions as much as from the physical exertion. He must have fallen asleep before The General left because when he opened his eyes again the lights were dimmer suggesting that the night staff had already started their shift. Turning to his right he saw Cat, curled up and fast asleep in the soft chair that Jennifer Keller had insisted be moved into the infirmary if she were determined to spend so much time there. He smiled and reached out to gently stroke her arm, needing still to feel her physical presence as reality.

She stirred at his touch. 'Hi,' she said blearily. 'How're you feeling? I hear you had a little visit from our favourite General.' Cat really liked Jack O'Neill. In some ways he reminded her of John, although he was more hardened and cynical than her husband. More important had been the part he played in bringing the couple back together again after the traumatic events when The Trust tried to infiltrate Atlantis. Under the ironic surface she knew there was a soft heart and she liked him enormously.

'Better. Doc says I can escape tomorrow and come home if I'm a good boy.' At this, he saucily moved his hand to her leg and began to let it drift upwards, to be met by another firm hand stopping his and a 'now, now, patience' from his wife which promised of things to come. The smirk she received in return told her all she needed to know about how well he was recovering. To tease him further she leant forward, allowing him to smell her perfume and catch a glimpse down her shirt, kissing him on the top of his head and whispering 'good night' and jumping back just out of reach of the hands that threatened to pull her towards him even closer. Then, with a deliberate wiggle of her backside she looked over her shoulder and blew him a kiss before heading back for what she hoped would be the most restful night's sleep for some time. In fact, she sincerely hoped that the next few nights would be considerably less restful!

***

Charel didn't seriously expect to survive the next few days. She suspected that, once the Atlantians realised that she wouldn't give up any information, she would be of no further use. That John Sheppard was still alive was an annoyance but one that she was certain would be remedied at some point in the future, though not by her. She was somewhat surprised that there had been no attempt on her life so far. If someone had attacked a member of her family, she would have had no hesitation in repaying the debt tenfold. Among The Genii, such revenge was accepted, no was demanded.

The tall man who entered the room was not what she expected. His dishevelled grey hair and slightly untidy uniform suggested a casualness which the respect in which he was clearly held by the guards seemed to belie and there was an air of authority and a suggestion of danger about him that her experienced eye could distinguish. He was a man who she would need to be careful of, she was certain. He sat easily at the chair placed to the other side of the new table which had just been brought into the room, slouching back into it as though he had not a care in the world.

'Hi there,' he drawled. 'Let's you and me have a little chat.' He beckoned to the large man with dreadlocks standing at the entrance who entered menacingly and strode to the rear of the cell, his stare burning into her back and she heard a weapon click: changed to kill she supposed. 'Shall we begin?'

***

Jennifer Keller was good to her word and John was duly released from the infirmary the following day, but under strict instructions to go straight to his quarters and stay there for most of the next 24 hours. Rodney and Teyla were present with Cat to gather him up and wheel him 'home' in his wheelchair, among much groaning and complaining from John who was quite sure he could walk the distance. In fact, he'd managed to walk as far as the infirmary door, before his legs gave out under him and the empty wheelchair being pushed by a grumpy Rodney was rapidly shoved under him, catching him just in time. By the time they reached Cat and John's quarters, Teyla and Rodney were more than happy to leave their friend to the ministrations of his loving wife, John truly proving his reputation of being a difficult patient: complaining all the way back; whining about going to the cafeteria or the gate room; trying to get out of the chair and walk. It was like trying to manage a difficult toddler, thought Rodney.

The door swished closed behind them and Cat finally found herself alone with John. He sat slightly bad-temperedly in the chair, before raising up its arms as if to stand up, then looked up at her. All the last days disappeared in that moment as their eyes met and his glistened with the emerald that usually signified the fleeting movement of intense emotion across his expression. Smilingly he reached to her, like a little boy needing the comfort of his mother, but the look on his face was far from that of a child! Cat smiled back and slowly moved towards him, carefully manoeuvring onto his knee in a way which would not hurt his wounds and wrapping her arms around his neck. From the way he nuzzled her neck it soon became clear that a cuddle was not all that was going through his mind and his hand began to creep from her waist, inside her shirt and up her back, playfully twanging her bra strap before adeptly undoing it. Cat moved so that she was straddling his legs and facing him before she undid her buttons allowing him to gently push the shirt from her shoulders, taking her bra with it. She could see his breathing becoming more rapid as he gazed at her, already, swollen breasts with evident pleasure then his hands snaked around to them, fondling her as though he had never seen her before.

'Oh, God, Cat, you're so beautiful,' he whispered and she leant down to kiss him. In turn, she slowly slipped each one of his buttons from their holes, pulled his shirt from its rather perilous position in his jeans (John's shirts never stayed put for long and he was constantly fiddling and tucking them in), and then ran her hands down his firm belly towards his trouser belt, carefully skimming over the bandaged wound, before unfastening the buckle of the belt and undoing his button and zip in a seamless movement. He moaned into her mouth as she let her hand wander lower, his body clearly demonstrating how much he wanted her. For a moment, she pulled away and he looked disappointed as she shuffled backwards from his lap and stood in front of him but, instead of leaving him, she deliberately and slowly unpeeled her trousers, already made easier by reason of the failure of the top button to close now that her pregnancy was beginning to show. His look was one of sheer lust and appreciation and she moved closer again, allowing him to stroke his hand across her stomach, tracing the soft roundness that was now showing.

He smiled and huskily said, 'I've missed you so much. Come here.' Tenderly and carefully, she lowered herself on to him, intent on taking most of the strain so that he wouldn't pull at his stitches or jar his broken ribs as she moved. His breathing hitched and she knew that it wouldn't take long this time for them both to reach a climax of pleasure, but that didn't matter. Being with him again, the relief that he was here with her, making love to her, was enough. She could wait for the more dominant John to return when he was more physically fit. As one they moved, until together they lost all track of time or space in an amazing ecstasy of closeness. As her vision cleared, she looked down into his eyes and saw the trace of a tear, not from pain, but from the relief of being back with her and back home and she leant down to kiss it away before raising herself from him and standing back to admire her work. After sex, John always wore a debauched look which often made her want to jump him all over again, but given his present condition and hers, she thought that was probably not the best idea. Instead, she helped him stand from the chair and guided him to their bed, where they gently lay down together, falling into a peaceful sleep.

***

Jack O'Neill was exhausted. There was no way that damn woman would be broken by ordinary interrogation methods and the threat of Ronon's presence hadn't been enough to persuade her to speak. He'd even briefly considered letting the big man loose to take his much desired revenge on Charel, but had stopped just short of crossing than line. However, he had another trick up his sleeve and he really hoped that this one would get some results. It had taken a little persuading by Woolsey to attract their new visitor who had met the request with a 'what is in it for me?'. It was only when Todd had understood the full extent of Charel's crimes that he agreed to come to Atlantis. Jack couldn't begin to comprehend the peculiar bond that tied the fates of John Sheppard and The Wraith, but the look on Todd's face as he heard what she had done to the Colonel was enough to convince him that he could well be the one to finally 'persuade' her to speak.

It was hard to read the wraith's expression as he entered the cell, but her certainly looked angry, his fury almost radiating from him. It was less hard to read Charel's. She paled instantly, standing rapidly from her chair, it clattering to the ground, and backed towards the far wall in response to the merciless stare from his yellow eyes.

'I hear that you have treated a friend of mine rather badly,' he growled, 'and I take great exception to that. The General here was kind enough to contact me so that I can personally express my displeasure.' At this he raised his feeding hand and moved stealthily towards her.

'Stop, stop, someone stop him, please. I'll tell you what you want to know. Anything. Please???' and she screamed as he came with half a metre of her, vicious intent on his face. He stopped and looked towards Jack, who was smiling in amazement. This was his first encounter with any wraith, let alone the infamous Todd. and he was a little taken aback by the sideways grin which he was sure slipped across the wraith's face.

Charel spilled everything she knew – the whereabouts of Laden Radeen, various locations of Genii outposts, names of two significant commanders – encouraged by the proximity of Todd who stood at that same distance, his right hand twitching at any sign of her stopping. As she finished, she looked fearfully towards the wraith and then back to Jack O'Neill, pleading for her life. With a nod from Jack, Todd took a further step towards her and raised his hand yet again, close enough for her to feel his hot breath on her face, before he pulled back and chuckled, turning on his heels and leaving the cell.

'It's not over for you yet,' Jack said with ill-restrained glee. 'Don't imagine that you will be let off that easily.' Then he followed the wraith, leaving Charel to contemplate her future and how she had betrayed her friends and colleagues. As he left, he pondered on the nature of the playground bully remembering some of his own, less pleasant, childhood experiences and some of his military ones too. Yes, cowardice was simply the other side of the bully's coin.

***

The buzz on their door woke them both and it was a rather hazy Cat who answered the door to her friend.

'Good morning,' said Teyla smiling. 'I am sorry to disturb you, but there is a visitor in Atlantis who would very much like to see Colonel Sheppard and I have some good news for you both as well.'

Behind her, Cat could hear the struggle of her husband to get up and look even vaguely decent, but since they'd both fallen asleep with their clothes on, that was almost an impossibility. From behind her he said, 'it's alright, Teyla. You can come in,' as he sat stiffly on the edge of the bed, rubbing the back of his neck. 'What visitor and what news?'

Teyla entered the room and sat on the edge of the large sofa: it had been the first thing Cat had demanded for their room after they married. Somehow sofas went hand-in-hand with couples, romance and comfort in her mind and it seemed to be the perfect symbol of their happiness, as well as a very nice place to 'make-out'. 'The visitor is Todd and the news is that Charel has finally told us all we need to know about where Laden is and much, much more about the Genii operations.'

John's eyebrows showed his astonishment. 'Todd is here? How? Why? What did he do?' Here he looked rather uncomfortable, memories of his torture at the wraith's hand (literally at his hand) always close to the surface. He wished many things on that woman, but even he couldn't wish that.

Teyla smiled. 'Well, Richard Woolsey managed to persuade him to come. He was a little angry about what happened to you!'

John looked amazed. 'Well, I suppose he feels he owns the rights to torturing me.' It was an attempt at a joke, but even he couldn't make it seem funny.

Teyla continued, 'He did not have to really do anything, just walk into the cell and threaten to feed on her. She gave up the information within minutes. You will be pleased to hear that he played the part well and she was absolutely terrified, but he did not feed on her. She will still have to go through all the correct channels and will probably be taken back to Earth for further questioning, according to General O'Neill. He said something about 'that bitch never seeing the light of day' which I understand to mean that she will be incarcerated for a very long time.'

He turned to Cat, sensing her need for reassurance and comfort. 'It's alright. I will see Todd before he leaves. He and I have quite a history and I should thank him. Don't worry. I'll be fine.' He turned back to Teyla. 'Give me an hour to shower and dress and I'll meet him in the visitor's lounge.'

It was an odd meeting between the two old allies. Todd greeted him with a half-smile and an 'it's good to see you alive, John Sheppard.' John stood his distance, but smiled back and thanked the wraith for coming to Atlantis and helping them. Both would always be wary, respecting each other for their intelligence and strength and aware of the peculiar tie that held them in such a strange 'friendship'. By the end of the day, Todd had once again left the city, back to his hive and his own political shenanigans.

The departure of Todd and Charel's confession felt like the end of something that both John and Cat would now rather forget. John couldn't wait to get on with his 'normal' life and was looking forward to becoming a father. Cat, on the other hand, had two pressing matters on her mind, neither of which would go away. The first was the still burning desire for retribution now that she knew 'that woman' was still alive and still in the city (for the moment on both counts) and the second more pleasant one was the planning of their Saturday night which she would now focus upon entirely. That afternoon, she wrote the invitation (one of their little habits) and contacted Amelia (still running the amateur dramatics club) to check out the availability of the costume she wanted.

She was quite determined that it would be a night to remember.

TBC

_Please R & R if you want to find out what Cat has planned. It felt comfortable heading back to familiar waters between these two after all their troubles. But, it's not over quite yet! And remember, there is the ring to give back and the news of John's promotion to reveal. Constructive criticism is always welcome!_


	8. Chapter 8

_AN: Thank you all my lovely reviewers. Here's a little reward for all the thunkers out there, you know who you are!!_

_**Doctor Catherine Sheppard**_

_**Requests the company of**_

_**Lieutenant-Colonel John Sheppard**_

_**On the East Pier**_

_**Tonight at 7:30pm**_

_**Dress optional**_

_**Transport will be provided**_

John smiled at the invitation laying on his pillow as he woke up that morning. He had guessed she'd been planning something from her frequent absences over the last couple of days and knew better than to ask her what she was doing. There were always little clues in her invites; the thought of 'transport will be provided' was interesting and he knew darn well what she meant by 'dress optional'. Of course, he had his own surprise too. Not one to really revel in self-congratulation or to need the approval of others, he hadn't yet told anyone of his recent promotion, even Cat. He also knew that she would take greater pleasure in the news than he. Not that he wasn't pleasantly surprised and flattered but, if he _were_ to think about it, he might have come to the conclusion that, for him, it was the job that mattered not the title. All those years ago, when Atlantis was threatened by The Wraith and he had been willing to sacrifice himself to save it, he knew that nothing else mattered above the security of this city and the people in it. But John Sheppard never dissected his reasons for being nor revelled in any ego-massaging thoughts. He might take with him a huge burden of responsibility and no small degree of guilt but it only served to feed his continuing desire to look after those who he commanded and anyone else who crossed his path. In any case, he had work to do before the evening. There was a meeting with Lorne to catch up with some of the minor trivia of command: who'd been caught doing what in his absence; which marine or pilot deserved a meeting with their commanding officer for praise or otherwise; and what was Maria Johnson's latest 'special' in the menu. He also had another, more awkward, matter that he needed to broach with his 2iC, something more personal and close to home. And then, he had to meet with Woolsey and General O'Neill. Although still not fit enough for active duty, he was being kept very determinedly in the loop about the Charel/Genii/Laden Radeen situation and was grateful for Jack O'Neill's sensitivity in doing so.

He rose from bed stiffly and smilingly propped the invite on Cat's dressing table, glancing in the mirror as he did. The lines at the corners of his eyes were definitely becoming more evident and he could swear that more white hairs had appeared in his sideburns since his encounter with Charel, but all-in-all he wasn't too displeased with the face that looked back at him. His cheekbone was a lovely shade of purple and yellow, but the swelling was going down and the hair was still rebellious: it took him a good ten minutes that morning to tease it into any form of neatness. With a wince, he stood up and attempted to stretch out his damaged side, lifting up his t-shirt to run his hand tentatively over the bandage and then across his healing ribs. He was still too thin, he knew, his normally slim but muscular stomach needing at least another inch and his ribs showing through the skin merely exaggerated the bruising. Slowly, he stripped off his jogging bottoms and lifted the t-shirt all the way off, then turned playfully to the full-length mirror on the wall and attempted a body-builder's pose, which he at once regretted, almost doubling up with pain and grimacing with an 'ouch!' before more carefully taking the black BDU's from the drawer. It took him another half an hour to fully dress, then he attached his radio to his ear and clicking it told Lorne that he was on his way.

This was John's first morning back on light duty since he had returned to the city. He'd been out and about a little, eating in the cafeteria and being firmly 'mothered' by Chief Maria Johnson who's hug had almost killed him, again. Wherever he went, well-wishers would shake his hand or smile as he passed and today they had particular cause to be happy. When news had come through that Colonel Sheppard was dead, the city had immediately fallen into a deep gloom which had only lifted at news of his return and his recovery. Seeing him walking down the corridors, if somewhat stiffly, dressed once again in his familiar black uniform, gave the city's inhabitants further cause to rejoice and it took him a good fifteen minutes to walk to his office, where it would normally have been a five minute walk, if that.

Lorne stood to relaxed attention as his commander walked into the office. 'Morning, sir. Nice to see you back.' Ever the master of under-statement, his casual greeting masked his delight at seeing John. They chatted at some length about various and may inconsequential matters, both just enjoying the feeling of normality, but both knowing there was another security matter that had to be broached. Finally, there was a pause in which both looked uncomfortably at their feet. Lorne began.

'There is the matter of our captive, Colonel.' All that needed to be said was contained in those words. Did John want to see her before she was shipped out? Did he need to talk about what had happened? How did he feel about learning that she was alive and sitting in a cell just below where they were sitting?

'I don't think it'd be a sensible idea for me to visit her,' John said after a pause. This wasn't really what was on his mind and they both knew it. 'I'm worried, Evan.' Whenever John used his first name, Lorne knew that 'official' business was off the table. 'It's not that she's said anything. In fact, that's most worrying because we haven't discussed Charel at all since I was in the infirmary. I know she promised me not to do anything stupid, but I know Cat; she allows grudges to fester and won't let them go. While that damn woman is here, my wife is quite capable of doing something stupid like taking revenge for what was done to me and I just can't let that happen. She might do something in anger that she'd have to live with for the rest of her life and she might just put herself and our child in danger in the process. I don't think she really understands how dangerous someone like Charel is.' The look in his commander's eyes was enough for Lorne to know how much he feared what Cat would do and he decided then and there that this needed to be his absolute priority until Charel was out of the way.

'Leave it with me, sir. I'll double the guard and make sure that every soldier knows that Doctor Sheppard is not to be allowed anywhere near the cells or Charel. If memory serves me right, she can be quite 'persuasive' when she wants something.' Lorne clearly remembered other occasions when Cat had used her undoubted charms to 'get round' a poor innocent marine. 'I promise you, sir, that I will not let her put herself in danger.' John smiled at his friend. That, for the moment, would have to be enough and he knew that Lorne would do his best.

The meeting with The General and Richard Woolsey was fairly routine. There was some progress being made in locating Laden Radeen and Jack O'Neill was about to head out to a possible meeting with the Genii commander. John made a few noises about needing to go with him, quickly dismissed, which he wasn't unhappy about. He needed to be here to recover, here to keep an eye on Cat and here to enjoy his upcoming date. Shaking The General's hand, he left Woolsey's office with a spring in his step, glancing at his watch which showed that there were still five hours to go until the evening assignation. What to do now? He wasn't used to not being busy and he certainly couldn't spar with Teyla or Ronon yet.

'I know. McKay!' and he headed off towards Rodney's lab. A bit of McKay bating was just what he needed right now and he might even be able to persuade his friend to play on a computer game for a bit. With a renewed bounce in his steps, he almost ran towards the scientist's 'lair' where a happy several hours was spent getting under Rodney's feet. Rodney, in turn, protested loudly and as wordily as ever, but the smile in his eyes belied his grumpiness. He, too, was happy to have his closest and oldest friend back and would gladly waste as many hours as it took just to enjoy his company again, not that either would be prepared to admit what they meant to each other.

Cat was just about ready. The uniform she'd borrowed from the theatrical cupboard was perhaps a little over the top, but it'd serve its purpose, although it was a little uncomfortable. The inspiration had come from John's weakened condition and she saw nothing better than an evening of looking after him. A blue striped calf-length dress was gathered in at the waist with an elastic belt and she hoped it didn't make her look too much like a sack of potatoes, especially now her girth was beginning to expand. The little hat had been quite difficult to pin to her fine hair, but it just about sat there, if a little precariously. What was important was what she was hiding under her dress: something to complete the whole sexy nurse thing and a surprise for John. She had set up a make-shift couch in their secluded corner of the east pier, deep piled with cushions leant to her by Teyla. Ronon had agreed to bring John in the 'transport' that Amelia Banks had provided. It was nearly half past seven and she was a giddy mix of nervousness and excitement, patting her pocket at regular intervals just to check that her little gift was still there.

New Lantea was gracing them with a perfect evening, a warm breeze blowing across the pier and the light from the moons golden and iridescent, casting wonderful shapes across the pier. She took a quiet moment to look out across the beautiful city, sighing happily. Her world had felt like a jigsaw swept impatiently of a table and scattered into tiny pieces across the floor, and now she was piecing it back together again. Tonight she could begin to slot back the last few missing parts.

The door at the far end opened and she saw Ronon enter, pushing John in the old Bath chair she'd purloined from Amelia, along with her uniform, his legs covered with an old tartan blanket. She'd remembered it from a rather good production of 'The Importance of Being Earnest' and thought it would be perfect for tonight. Ronon wore a very amused expression and John looked somewhat embarrassed, though she was certain he hadn't travelled far along Atlantis' corridors in the ancient chair. With a wave, Ronon left, leaving John smiling at her as she tottered and clicked her way over to him in her red stiletto heels, swaying her hips in as exaggerated way as she could, given the precarious nature of the shoes.

'Good evening, sir,' she said, keeping her English tones as clipped as possible. 'I've set up your couch at the end of the pier. I'll just wheel you over to it.' With this, she leant towards him to straighten the blanket, giving him a full view of her cleavage and the red lace bra she was wearing underneath the uniform. He smiled appreciatively, his right hand creeping up her leg and just touching the top of her stockings but she slapped his hand back and said, 'now, now, sir, consider your condition. We don't want to get you too excited,' at which he raised a quizzical eyebrow and allowed himself to be pushed towards the make-shift bed. As she pushed, she let her eyes wander down the nape of his neck, the little V as always pointing temptingly to what was below. He was wearing a very crumpled white shirt which set off his tanned skin perfectly. In the last few days, he'd taken as many opportunities as possible to sit out on their balcony, desperate to add some colour to the awful pallor that had come with such a near death experience, and now he was almost as brown as before. She also knew from experience that his aversion to the iron, and her unwillingness to do the ironing for him, meant that the buttons would not quite close the shirt at the front and she was looking forward to the little tempting glimpses of skin and tufts of chest hair that would inevitably be revealed as the shirt struggled to cover him.

She put the brakes on the ancient chair and leant forward against his back, allowing her breath to tease the back of his neck and was rewarded by what sounded remarkably like a pigeon cooing as the sound came from his lips involuntarily. Then she moved to the front, leaning forward again, and unwrapped his long legs from the blanket, trying not to spend too long lingering on the parts of his body which showed how much he was looking forward to what would come next. This was the bit that she would have to improvise, knowing that she mustn't pick him up in her condition.

'Now then, sir. You are a little heavy for me and I know you would not want me to hurt my back, so if you are able, would you mind standing up so that I can help you over to the couch.' John smiled and stood rather stiffly and not just because of his healing injuries, and hobbled over to the couch, allowing her to pretend to guide him by the arm. As they reached it, she stood in front of him and ran her hands down his pert rear before allowing him to settle back into the cushions, then she stood in front of him and smiled. 'Now for your medicine, sir,' she said as she clicked the button on the portable i-pod player.

To the strains of 'The Stripper' she performed the most seductive striptease she could manage, throwing off the elastic belt and unbuttoning her starched dress one button at a time, before pushing it off her shoulders and shrugging it to the floor, revealing his 'present' underneath: a matching pair of red lace knickers to go with the bra, both of which barely covered her expanding assets and a black suspender belt attached to black, sheer stockings. Somehow, she managed to keep the little nurse's hat on as she swayed over to him, bumping and grinding for all her worth. She was just in mid-grind, wiggling her rear end at him, when he grabbed her and gently, but firmly, pulled her towards him, sitting her down on his lap and laughing huskily as he did. She continued to wriggle, feeling the tightness of his jeans under her as his hands undid the clasp of her bra, allowing it to fall off loosely before he threw it into the darkness. As much as her befuddled brain could think, she inwardly chuckled at the thought of yet another piece of her underwear disappearing into the shadows of the east pier, one day, maybe, to be discovered by some unsuspecting visitor, then all coherent thought vanished as he divested her of the rest of her underwear, leaving only the suspender belt, stockings and hat in place. His hands covered her, stroking her and teasing her, until she didn't know how much more pleasure she could take.

It was her turn now. Turning round and straddling his knees, she undid the untidy shirt and pushed it back from his shoulders, running her hands over his firm chest and down his belly to the belt of his trousers. God, he was the most gorgeous man she'd ever seen and best of all, he was all hers. Then, she slowly peeled off his trousers, taking off the loosely tied trainers as she did, before moving back up his body and pushing down his boxers. For a moment she stood back to admire her handiwork, before pouncing on him, unable to resist him anymore. And in between the laughing and the suppressed shouts of pleasure, some more of those jigsaw pieces flew back to their proper places.

Afterwards, bathed in a soft glow of ecstasy a well as that coming from the moons, they huddled together amongst the cushions, speechless but enjoying the feel of each other's skin. John knew that this was what mattered, this was real, and he finally pushed away the memories of some of the recent horrors. This seemed the right moment for his little announcement. 'I've some news,' he whispered in her ear. 'You're now married to a full-blood colonel of the United States Air Force.'

Cat jumped and squealed much more loudly than she'd intended, causing him to playfully poke his finger in his right ear and exclaim 'ouch!', before she jumped on him and rained kisses all over his face and neck, forgetting momentarily that she was almost stark naked and causing him to start to move his hands over her rear again.

She leapt back and said excitedly, 'no, not yet naughty boy. I've a little present for you too!' She had to bend forward to reach the nurse's dress, aware of his eyes roving over her body as she did, one hand still touching her with the tips of his long fingers as she pulled out the little packet and then allowed him to reel her back in again. 'Here, I think this is something you might have lost' and she opened the tissue paper to reveal the gold Athosian ring given to him in this very place. The look of delighted surprise in his eyes was enough to reward her as she slipped the ring onto his index finger, kissing it once it was in place. 'I know you usually wear it around your neck, but just for once let me see it on your finger,' she murmured tearfully, the emotion of the moment too much for her, responding to the deep feelings showing in his hazel eyes.

'How...how did you find it?'

'Teyla spotted it in the floor just before they brought you back. She gave it to me while you were still in the infirmary. I thought it needed a special moment to give it back.'

For a moment he held her gaze before gathering her into his arms, tenderly caressing her belly. Even now, he needed to bite his tongue, fearful that she would still do something stupid with Charel on the base and wanting to break the silence between them on the subject, but then he forgot all his worries as she moved closer to him again, kissing him all along his chin and down his Adam's apple to the little tufts of pepper and salt hair at the top of his chest. They stayed for much longer than usual that night, making love and dozing among the piles of cushions, only sneaking out in the early hours as the suns began to rise, she wrapped in the tartan blanket, the only other evidence of their night-time adventures the red stiletto heels clicking along the corridors.

***

In the cell, Charel was readying herself to leave Atlantis and The Pegasus Galaxy for good. The Earth ship had arrived to take her and she had no doubt that what was to come for the rest of her life wouldn't be pleasant. Still, to have escaped from here with her life was a small victory in itself. All the time she'd been here, every noise, every footfall had seemed like the precursor of the assassin's knife and within the next few hours she would finally be away from those who would do her harm. Inwardly, she sneered at the cowardice of these people who clearly had no comprehension of familial duty and justifiable revenge.

TBC

_Please R&R. You know I Iike positive criticism. I mean, do you want retribution??_


	9. Chapter 9

_Thanks to all my lovely reviewers. Well, here it is. Last chapter. It's been a long ride and this chapter needs to close on John and Cat._

Cat was restless. The night before had been everything she'd hoped for, and more and she'd managed to grab some sleep after they'd returned to their quarters, but it was very fitful. She felt as though something were unresolved. About an hour previously, she'd felt John stir and try to extricate himself from their tangled heap of legs and arms without waking her. The shower had tinkled on the distant edges of her awareness as had the gentle opening and shutting of the drawers and the stiff rustling as he dressed in his BDU's. He'd leant over, as always, and kissed her on the forehead, quietly whispering 'I love you' before heading off to his Atlantis bound duties.

Wearily, Cat struggled to open her eyes. In her half sleep she'd not really been aware of what was bothering her, but it was clearer now. One of her strengths, as well as a weakness, was her ability to make quick decisions and stick with them: the trouble was that she stuck with them regardless. As a little girl, her mother had called it her determined back, describing the way she'd stride into school as a very little girl, back straight, never looking back. Today she knew what she needed to do, something she really should have followed through days ago and she got up quickly, showering and dressing within ten minutes. What she now needed was someone who was 'in the know' but not at the sharp end of things, so to speak. There was only one person who might just have the information she needed and putting on that 'determined back' she left to find Harry Burt, Atlantis' now infamous barman.

Harry was behind the bar, clearing up the detritus from the night before, the result of a rather drunken birthday celebration given for Zelenka by some of his science buddies which had been gate-crashed by a group of rowdy marines. He stood up quickly as he heard her soft foot- fall, immediately knowing who was coming. One of his skills, apart from mixing and naming some stunning cocktails, was the ability to recognise his visitors by the way they walked. It had often proved useful, learnt from working in some of the more dangerous 'drink and duck' bars back on Earth, where knowing who was coming from behind could sometimes save your ass.

His bald head popped up from behind the bar and in a strong Irish lilt he greeted her with a jokey, 'top-o-the-mornin' to you Doctor Sheppard!' While Chief Maria Johnson certainly had a huge crush on the dashing Colonel, he was totally smitten by Cat's gentle beauty and soft English voice and Maria and he would often share a late night drink discussing the pain of unrequited love. John frequently teased her about the doey Irish eyes that followed her around the room when they were in the bar.

'Hi, Harry,' she said, as casually as possible, swinging her legs up onto a high bar stool and giving him a gleaming smile. 'So, what's new?'

This was his cue. Harry was an incorrigible gossip and having the woman of his dreams listening with rapt attention was enough to set him off. He rambled on about Atlantis trivia, who was going out with who, who'd cheated on who, who was next in line for promotion and much more, and throughout Cat maintained her patient smile, waiting for the one nugget of information that she was waiting for. After twenty long minutes she got what she wanted.

'And, that woman is leaving for Earth today,' all of Atlantis was now calling her by that epithet,' and good riddance is all I can say. You must be glad to see her go.'

He looked crestfallen at the disappearing back of his infatuation, leaving rapidly from the bar room, then shrugged his shoulders and, with a chirpy whistle, carried on with his cleaning.

Cat knew what she wanted to do. Without hesitation, she headed straight for their quarters and found the side-arm that John had strapped inside the wardrobe 'for emergencies'. The habit, he said, had come from being with Ronon too long. The big man seemed to have a never ending supply of hidden weapons, both on his person and around the city. It wasn't difficult to hide the gun: she was already wearing slightly more baggy clothes than usual to give her a little more breathing room as her girth expanded, and she tucked it into her waistband. Next stop 'her' place on the balcony. She could hide in the shadows long enough to wait for Charel to arrive in the gate room. Long ago, she'd found a quiet and secret niche covered by a door quite invisible to most eyes. Her very strong gene meant that she could see and open the door with ease. Once inside, she'd simply keep the door slightly open, hopefully able to pick up the noises as John's torturer and her guards entered. With luck, she'd be far too early for John to have set up any guards on the outside of the control room doors. She hadn't been blind to the more watchful eyes of Lorne and his marines and had guessed that John may have had a 'little word' with his second in command about looking after her while Charel was still on the base.

It wasn't unusual to see the wife of the military commander walking towards the control room and most of the military presence was concentrated around the lower area, around the gate, so she was allowed to walk unhindered and unnoticed. Once, she caught Rodney in the distance, striding purposefully towards the canteen and she stepped back into the wall to avoid him, breathing a sigh of relief as his stomach once again won over his observation skills. Rodney was nothing if not single minded in matters of the belly. As she'd hoped, the marines posted by Lorne were looking out from the balcony across to the gate and Cat silently shuffled into the narrow space, closing the door with a swift thought, leaving a tiny gap where the sounds of the room could just about percolate through. Here, she shut her eyes, willing patience to ease the fluttering of her chest brought on by nervous anticipation.

So, here she was. All she'd need to do was to step out at the right time and fire the weapon into that woman's head. John had trained her well in firearms skills and she was now a darn good shot, surprising herself given her total fear of guns before she'd come to the city. She settled back into the shadows, prepared to wait for as long as it took.

***

John had made an important decision. Up to this point, he'd avoided Charel, unwilling to face her despite his much improved fitness. Now, he needed to show that he was back in a position of strength and make sure that she understood how she'd failed. And yet, there was something inside of him that shied away from the meeting, something not yet healed. No, he was John Sheppard and he didn't walk away from challenge or danger just for personal convenience. He would go down to the cells and personally oversee her removal from the city. That would be the best revenge.

Charel looked a little taken a back at first, but she soon rose to her full height and looked him proudly at him. He, in turn, silently returned her stare, a glint of emerald in his hazel eyes the only evidence of the heaving emotions inside him, leaving her in no doubt as to his meaning and he took some pleasure in the almost imperceptible slump of her shoulders when she registered what he was doing. The guards tightened her handcuffs and they had marched her here, to the gate room, a strange convoy walking through deserted and echoing corridors, all Atlantis' residents ordered to stay away from the passage it would take. The door swished open into the gate room itself and he heard Woolsey hail The Daedelus to prepare for and transport the prisoner. She turned to look him, smiling an arrogant smile, attempting, but failing at, one last act of defiance. He could see the fear in her eyes and thought, with no little enjoyment, that she had every right to be scared. Where she was going would not be a pleasant experience, he was certain.

Cat heard the door swish open and the sound of soldiers' boots on the shiny gate room floor. This was it. Her chance for final retribution against the woman who had so nearly taken away the one who meant everything to her. She pushed the door open a little more and stepped forward a pace, gun ready to fire, just as John had taught her.

'No! Stop!' A voice that wasn't a voice bubbled up from inside her, shouting in her head. A familiar voice and yet still not yet known. Cat stopped, poised to attack, shocked into stillness, unable to move. Beneath her she heard the sound of the transporter and knew that her moment had gone. With a sudden need for escape and self-preservation, she slipped from the niche, running out of the control room in the shadows, hoping that no-one had noticed her, desperate to return to the safety of her rooms.

'No! Stop!' The voice was so loud in John's head that he jumped and looked round for its source, causing Lorne to give him a strange look. John smiled a reassuring smile at him and tried to wipe the puzzlement from his features, wanting Charel to see his strength and defiance to the end. It was only after the transporter had taken her away that he allowed himself to consider what had happened. That voice! He knew it. He'd heard it before. In the torture chamber. When he was dying. And, in that moment, he knew what had nearly happened and rushed from the control room, desperate to find Cat, knowing that she would need him.

Cat slumped at her dressing table, the gun still in her hand as she rested it on the cluttered surface, tears streaming down her face. She heard the door behind her and was aware of a gentle hand taking the gun from her hand and the click as the safety was put back on. She felt herself being guided from her seat towards the bed and the soft mattress beneath her as a strong arm sat her down gently, but firmly. John's face appeared in front of hers as he knelt down before her, taking her chin in his hand, wiping away a tear with the other.

'It's okay, my love. She's gone. She can't harm us anymore. It's over.' He tried to smile encouragingly, but she could see the pain in his eyes too.

'I'm so sorry,' she blurted out, 'I wanted to kill her, to make her pay for what she's done to you. Something stopped me. I....' Here she paused and looked more directly at him. He simply nodded.

'I know. I felt it too,' and he ran his hand over her swelling belly. 'That's twice you've saved us now, little one,' he said to her stomach, then he wrapped his wife in his arms, confident at last that the horror was over and they could finally look to the future.

***

Jack O'Neill was ready to leave Atlantis. His work was over here and he was desperate to get home, to his semi-retirement and his fishing. The meeting with Laden had gone well and it looked as though he, with a little support from his allies, would be back in power very soon. The various rebel Genii factions were already in disarray. John Sheppard was fighting fit again and more than ready to take full control of both Atlantian and off-world operations. All Jack had to do now was wait for The Apollo to arrive and he'd be off. His little excursion to Pegasus had seemed quite exciting at first, but enough was enough, he ironically thought, for a man of his advancing years. Oh, and there was the little ceremony tonight as well. That was certainly not one to be missed, although the blue dress suit and stiff collar were not his favourite items of clothing. With a last attempt to smooth down the rebellious flick of hair that insisted on sticking up at the back of his head no matter how short he cut it, he strolled from his quarters towards Atlantis' gate room, chosen location for the expedition's latest batch of military honours. As usual there was a raft of medals and commendations to hand out, inevitable in a place where the battle for survival was so much part of the daily grind.

Jack smiled as he entered the gate room. John Sheppard was standing with his pretty wife, looking as uncomfortable in his blues as he felt. Given the man's courage and bravery, and what he'd achieved here, he was remarkably unwilling to stand in the limelight or take any kudos and he'd insisted that his particular 'award' be a surprise for his friends. Something about wanting to see the look on McKay's face, which Jack could seriously empathise with. He was quite looking forward to it too!

John nodded in Jack O'Neill's direction which was a cue for the ceremony to begin. He was genuinely nervous about the last bit which was to do with him, but really enjoyed giving out medals and awards to his men. Elizabeth had once criticised him for giving all his people above average or better in their performance reviews, but he had no problem with it. As he'd said then and meant, all his people_ are_ above average or better. And, he hated this damn uniform. He'd tried for at least half an hour to get his tie straight and, even with Cat's intervention, he'd failed. Mind you, her intervention was a little more discomposing than just trying to tie the tie and she'd showed her appreciation of how he looked in his blues which memory made him smile , causing Jack O'Neill to give him an amused glance.

Cat stood at the bottom of the temporary dais, admiring her husband. She couldn't see anything else but him: he looked so handsome and sexy in his blue suit and white shirt, the tie still slightly off centre despite all their efforts. She too smiled. An hour earlier, both dressed to the nines, they'd managed to divest themselves of their carefully put on clothes. She'd not been able to resist him and he hadn't been able or willing to say no. In fact, she was already plotting the night ahead: a man in military uniform whisking her away from the stuffy party for a night of wild and passionate sex seeming like an excellent way to celebrate his promotion. From the top of the dais he caught her eye and, guessing what she was thinking, winked at her.

Finally, they reached the end of the other awards and citations. John stepped from the podium as planned and stood at the bottom of the steps. It was clear to the audience that The General had something else he wanted to say and they assumed it to be a nice little speech about how much he'd enjoyed his time in the city etc.

Jack cleared his throat. 'I have one more task to perform before I leave your wonderful city. There is one person here who we haven't yet mentioned today.' A slight murmur went round the room. 'A man who I have personally taken great interest in and who has been responsible for saving this city and protecting its inhabitants on numerous occasions, at great personal risk. He is one of the bravest men I have met, and that's saying something. So, it gives me great pleasure to read the following citation:

_For services to his country and to the people of The Pegasus Galaxy I am delighted to announce that Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard is promoted to Colonel from immediate effect._

_Signed,_

_The President of the United States._

A huge cheer erupted in the room as John Sheppard stepped up and shook General O'Neill's hand, then turned to face the crowd. He immediately looked for Ronon, Teyla and Rodney. Ronon was grinning like the Cheshire Cat and gave him a huge thumbs up. Teyla smiled broadly and nodded her head in approbation. And Rodney? The shocked expression had given way to a huge smile. There was nothing in what had just happened to cause even a smidgen of cynicism to pass his lips and no-one who, he felt, deserved the honour more. John looked down at his friends and to his pregnant wife and felt fully, and for the first time, that this was really where he was meant to be. While the he didn't need the promotion personally, it meant some kind of forgiveness for the 'black mark' that had so blotted his record and an acknowledgement that something good and right had come from what he'd achieved here in Atlantis. And, while the guilt and doubts would probably return to haunt him at some time in the future, for now he was content and happy.

And Cat? The love and pride she felt for him then would carry them through all the times ahead that would be less easy and she remembered the first time she'd met those expressive hazel eyes as she'd arrived in the city and how she knew then that life would never be the same for her again.

THE END

_Please R & R if you want. You know I like it!! It's over and I didn't want to see it go. Of course, there's more of their story if you want it. I may write a series of little one-shots about their pregnancy. I think they deserve a rest from torture and troubles for a bit, don't you?_


End file.
